Some Other Me
by almostfamousoxo
Summary: A collection of Scandal one-shots. **UPDATE!** "The Last Time"
1. The Little Mister

**A/N** : My take on a nice, fluffy, ideal Olivia/Teddy relationship. Please note I've taken some creative liberty with Teddy's age and he's only 2 in this story. The "incident" is some kind of national security threat, not 9/11 level, but a serious situation. Liv's POV.

 **Disclaimer** : All characters belong to Shonda!

Chaos.

My head is spinning as I try to make sense of what is happening in front of me. The room is a chaotic mix of secret service agents and White House personnel, all talking at the same time. Everyone is moving, rushing around, and yet I feel completely frozen and I can't seem to move at all. Through the cacophony, suddenly, I can hear Teddy crying for Fitz.

I spot him in the corner of the room farthest from where I'm standing. He's crying hard, sitting on an aid's lap while she attempts to comfort him. My heart breaks instantly.

As soon as he catches sight of me his arms raise, reaching for me. I cross the room in seconds, scooping him up from the aid's lap and holding him close. Teddy's little arms wrap around my neck and hold on tight, his wails dropping off into softer cries.

"Hey buddy, shh. I'm here. I'm right here, I've got you," I murmur softly, alarmed by how upset he is.

"Ms. Pope, I'm so sorry, Jen wasn't here tonight, she's on her way now, we weren't sure what to do," the aid speaks in a rush, wringing her hands, looking distraught and apologetic.

I turn kind eyes toward the young woman.

"It's alright, don't apologize. Poor guy, he just doesn't understand what's happening."

The aid remains flustered through her explanation of what happened, but from what I can gather Teddy and Fitz had been right in the middle of their afternoon playtime when all hell broke loose. I'm not a child psychologist but I know _this_ child well enough to understand his reaction to suddenly being jerked away from Fitz. Teddy craves routine, particularly where Fitz and I are concerned. We've made it a point to give him more stability over the past few months, more normalcy, especially after he had developed a bond with me. I hadn't expected him to capture my heart so quickly, but he had other ideas.

To be honest, I wasn't sure motherhood, in any shape or form, would suit me and I found the idea of it a little terrifying at first. Fitz and I had talked at length early on about my potential role in Teddy's life and had decided to follow his lead and let things happen organically. Teddy had been bounced between three different nannies in his short two years of life, and although I wanted to bond with the little boy I was careful not to force anything. A few weeks after my unofficial presence as The First Girlfriend had been well established, I walked over to the residence alone early one evening, too exhausted to wait for Fitz…

 **Three Months Ago**

 _Peeking into the nursery on my way to the master bedroom, I find Teddy and Jen in the rocking chair getting ready to read bedtime stories. As soon as he sees me in the doorway his face lights up._

 _"_ _Goodnight little mister," I say with a soft smile and a little wave, just like I would on any other night._

 _Except this time, he hops off of Jen's lap and runs over to press a book against my legs._

 _"_ _Lib! Lib wead it? Wead me?"_

 _Teddy is comfortable with my presence, he sees me on a regular basis and we play together often enough, but he's never specifically asked for me before. A little shocked, I look up at Jen, who shrugs and happily accepts the chance to go home a little early._

 _I kick off my heels, taking Jen's place in the rocking chair, and Teddy immediately makes himself comfortable in my lap._

 _"_ _Okay let's see, what are we reading tonight?" I ask him as he hands me one of two books he's chosen._

 _"'_ _Meelon colors," he answers, pointing to the cover of_ "A color of his own", _which displays a brilliantly multicolored chameleon._

 _"_ _Oh, I see! He has lots of colors. What color is this?"_

 _We work our way through the book and Teddy interjects less and less as he gets sleepier. By the third page of our second book, he's asleep in my arms. I rock him for a little while, feeling his soft breaths against my neck, inhaling baby shampoo and clean rocket ship pajamas. Looking down at his sleeping face, I try to imagine what life must be like for him, constantly having to get used to a new caregiver at such a vulnerable age. He's such a happy little guy, quick to laugh and always one step away from something mischievous. At the same time, he suffers from severe separation anxiety and I have to wonder if past experience has taught him that any time someone leaves, they may not come back. Teddy snuggles down more comfortably against my chest, and a wave of affection takes my breath away._

 _He asked for me._

 **Present Day**

There, in the dim quiet light of Teddy Grant's nursery, a part of my heart that I didn't even realize needed filling ran over. I realized that I wanted to be his person, his 'Lib', his stepmom, whoever he needed me to be. And that was it. Bedtime became my special time with him, and I've made it my mission to develop a comfortable routine that the little boy can count on.

Various staff members are briefing me on the incident as I stand with the toddler in my arms, his head on my shoulder as I unconsciously sway back and forth. Jen shows up to take him over to the residence but my gut is telling me that with the abrupt change in routine and chaotic environment, he won't go for it. Teddy is hiccupping quietly against my neck, and against my better judgment I move to hand him to the nanny. Immediately he's reaching for me, crying for _me_ , and I _can't_ leave him.

"Okay, you're okay. Shh, I'm here," I soothe, quickly taking him back into my arms.

Someone standing nearby starts yelling into his cell phone, and I feel Teddy jump in my arms, crying harder. I make a split second decision and decide to keep Teddy with me. I click over into fixer mode, sending Jen home first and then organizing a message to Fitz that I have Teddy and that we'll be in the residence. Next is a quick call to Quinn, letting her know I won't be available to come in to the office for the rest of the evening.

Teddy is quiet as we make our way through the West Wing, sniffling occasionally. As soon as we're in the residence I make a beeline for his room, flipping the ceiling fan on and closing the blinds.

Settling into the rocking chair, I take a deep breath and force my body to relax. I press my lips to his forehead, warm from crying, and rub gentle circles over his back hoping that the quiet of the room and the rocking will help lull him into a nap.

We've been rocking in silence for a few minutes when Teddy leans away from my shoulder and looks around, whimpering, "Daddy? Did Daddy go?"

I stroke a few curls away from his face, trying to decide how to explain the situation to a two-year old. As it turns out I don't have to, as Teddy voices his newest fear.

"Lib's gonna go?" Teddy asks, starting to cry again.

"No, honey, I'm not going. I'm not leaving, shh."

I coax his head back against my shoulder. He whimpers for a few more minutes before, finally, his little fingers come up to twirl my hair, a telltale sign that he's falling asleep. I try to lower him into his crib, once, twice, before I give up and let him nap in my arms. I know Jen normally gives him five minutes to cry it out but I just don't have the heart to do it today.

When he wakes up he has a smile on his face, the trauma of the afternoon forgotten.

Later, after Fitz has joined us in the residence for a little hide-and-seek, I send Teddy off to his room to pick out our books for the evening. When Fitz pulls me into his arms, whispering a thank you against my lips, I don't need to ask what he's thanking me for. I've stopped trying to tell him that I don't need to be thanked for taking care of a child that I've grown to love.

"Lib! Lib!" Teddy's voice rings out into the living room.

A grin splits across Fitz's face.

"Go ahead, _Lib_ ," he teases, sliding his arms from around my waist.

I smile and hold his gaze for another second before I turn and head to Teddy's room.

"Okay little mister, what are we reading tonight?"

 **A/N** : I have lots of unfinished one-shots sitting on my laptop...if you guys like this one let me know and there may be more!


	2. Popcorn?

**A/N** : **What if Liv and Fitz had been on good terms/together when she was kidnapped and he didn't end up going to war for her? This is a re-write of the ending of 4x13, because I'm still mad at Shonda for leaving poor traumatized Liv alone in her apartment that night.**

They look disappointed when she sends them away, especially Jake, but there's only one person she wants to see right now. If she can't be with him, she'd rather be alone tonight.

And then, suddenly, he's there. Olivia opens the door and he's just _there_.

Fitz takes a step forward and draws her into his arms, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. She returns the embrace, weaving her fingers through his curls and letting her eyes drift closed. She leans into it when he pulls her body flush against his, nuzzling her cheek against his hair. They hold each other for long moments just breathing, existing, enjoying the contact. She relaxes against him and exhales slowly. They unconsciously sway back and forth a little.

Memories of the past two weeks wash over Fitz for what feels like the thousandth time. Having her pressed against him and feeling her chest rise and fall with each breath helps to ease the sheer terror that grips him at the thought of losing her. He moves both hands to the small of her back and holds her a little tighter.

 _One minute_.

She'll never have to admit how shaken up she is, how badly she needs him to ground her, because he already knows. He's strong and solid against her and it's exactly what she needs. The tension is starting to leave her body, finally, and she makes a soft, contented sound in the back of her throat.

That triggers something, and she feels it when he almost loses control. She feels his breath quicken against her skin, his body conveying the emotions he's trying so hard not to express.

"Hey," she soothes, gently easing his face away from her neck and looking up into his eyes. "It's over. I'm right here."

He looks down, exhaling heavily, before meeting her eyes again. He leans in, bringing his hands up to cup her face. His thumbs trace her cheekbones slowly, reverently. She watches his brow furrow as he struggles to find the words. "I just, I thought—" He stops, swallows hard.

"I know."

She brings her forehead to his, doesn't make him finish his sentence.

Fitz kisses her then, gently at first, his hands running over her face, moving to thread through her hair. One kiss turns into a series of soft kisses, each lasting a little longer than the one before until everything else falls away and they're kissing slow and deep. Olivia moans into his mouth as his hands clutch her closer and start to wander, sliding firmly over her lower back and then around to cradle her hips. After days of rough and unwanted touches, his hands on her body feel like sinking into a hot bath and suddenly she needs him to touch her everywhere. Tears sting her eyes and a sob gets stuck in her throat as she lays her hands over his. Liv breaks their kiss and drops her face to his shoulder, guiding his hands in a slow caress up over her belly and breasts, then back down to her hips.

Fitz lets her lead him, sensing that what she's doing is about comfort, not sex. She lets go of his hands and wraps her arms under his shoulders so that they're holding each other again.

"Missed you," she whispers into his neck, uncharacteristically vulnerable. He gives her hips a gentle squeeze and smoothes his palms up and down her sides a few times.

Secret service knocks on the front door and she pulls away with a gasp, jumping so violently she nearly knocks her forehead against his jaw.

"It's okay, its just secret service," he reassures her, "They have a phone for me, we left in such a hurry I didn't grab one." She nods her head, unconsciously grabbing fistfuls of her jacket to help keep her hands from shaking so badly.

He presses a kiss against her forehead and then goes to answer the door, momentarily eyeing the plethora of new locks.

While he talks with the secret service agents, a wave of mind-numbing exhaustion hits her. She sinks down onto the couch and takes a deep breath, suddenly a little nauseous. Trying to remember the last time she had eaten or slept, Liv wraps the coat she's still wearing tighter around her body and leans forward. The brightness around the edges of her vision clears away and she takes another measured inhale.

"Livvie?"

He slowly crosses the room and crouches down in front of her, meeting her gaze. For the first time, he's struck by how utterly exhausted she looks. Her eyes are glassy and vacant for a moment before she's with him again.

"You should go," she says quietly, looking down at her ruined couch, "You need to—"

"Stop, I'm not going anywhere tonight. I'm not leaving you alone."

She stares at him for a few seconds, familiar feelings of guilt creeping over her at the fact that she's keeping him from his very important job. But at the same time, _god_ if she doesn't want him to stay and hold her while she sleeps, preferably for the better part of the next twenty-four hours. She's so _tired_ and she's never slept as well as she does in his arms. She's missed him terribly and if she's completely honest with herself, the only thing she wants right now is Fitz.

Fitz watches the internal struggle going on behind her eyes, knowing that he's staying even if she tries to argue with him.

But she doesn't argue. Eventually, her eyes soften and when he tugs gently on her hands she comes willingly.

"C'mere," he murmurs, sitting down next to her.

She snuggles into his arms, head tucked under his chin. She breathes him in and aches with the relief of it, he feels so familiar and warm and perfect. She focuses on his hand tracing slow circles over her back, trying to match her ragged breaths with his steady, even ones.

They're quiet for a while. As the adrenaline completely leaves her system, exhaustion starts to really set in. He's removed his jacket, when he did that she's not sure, and the warmth of his chest is making her feel a little bit delirious.

"How are we doing?" he asks quietly, noticing that her breathing has evened out and she's drifting off.

She makes a sound halfway between a sigh and a moan.

"So tired."

She's mumbling now, head still pillowed beneath his chin.

"Want to shower…and then want to sleep for…a very long time…and then we're going to have a lot of life-affirming sex…"

"Yeah?" he chuckles, "Does eating factor anywhere into that plan?"

"Popcorn?" she suggests, hopefully.

"Nice try, real food first."

For the first time in weeks, she smiles.


	3. Not Done

**A/N: THANK YOU for the kind reviews! Lots of you want more Olivia/Teddy, so I'm working on one of those but this one had to come out first. This is wishful speculation for 5x08. Oh Liv...that poor girl is walking on eggshells, waiting for the other shoe to drop because she doesn't trust unconditional love.**

 **Disclaimer: There's an italicized line in there than I borrowed from Shonda.**

Fitz bundles her into his arms because even though he's so _angry_ with her, he can't not comfort her. Not when she looks so broken and lost, not when she's crying harder than he's ever seen her cry. She curls into his lap and winds her arms around his neck, breathlessly sobbing into his shoulder.

After a few minutes he recognizes that she's quickly heading in the direction of a panic attack.

"Easy, easy. Slow down," he murmurs, exaggerating his own breathing so that she can match it, a routine he's become familiar with.

When her breathing has evened out, he gently but firmly pushes her off of his lap and they both stand up. She turns away from him, and in half a second she has carefully collected her face into an emotionless mask, brushing the tears away and straightening her clothes. Before he has a chance to say anything she's all business, cold and detached.

"I'll come back tomorrow for my clothes, don't worry about packing anything I'll bring my people to do that. Give my regrets to the French ambassador at dinner tomorrow, you can give him whatever excuse you want until we figure out how to spin the breakup. As soon as I have everything I'll see what needs to happen as far as my security access to—"

"Liv, what the hell are you talking about?" he interrupts incredulously. "Why are you walking away? After everything we've worked for? Everything we've done?"

She takes a step back during his outburst. Suddenly she looks so confused, that carefully crafted mask cracking ever so slightly. She opens and then closes her mouth, looking for words, looking at him with uncertain eyes.

Oh. _Oh._

It hits him all at once, her breakdown, the tears…she thinks he's done. She thinks he is kicking her out, too. And that melts away the smallest piece of his anger, because she has been hurt so deeply so many times that she still doesn't get it.

He takes slow, careful steps until he's right in front of her, close enough to gently grip her upper arms. He waits until she meets his eyes before he starts to speak.

"Listen to me. I am angry with you. I hate what you did and I am so angry that you lied to me. But that doesn't change the fact that I love you, that I want you."

Her eyes are wide and glassy, tears of relief threatening to fall when she realizes what he's telling her.

"I've told you over and over again, but I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it. I will _always_ want you. I will always want us. _There is nothing you could do that I wouldn't forgive_. I can't…I can't talk to you right now, honestly I can barely look at you, I need time. We're not going to be okay tonight, or tomorrow, or this week. But, eventually, we're going to talk about this and we'll be okay. We're not done. I don't want you to leave. Okay?"

She nods her head and closes her eyes, taking a deep breath.

She takes a tentative step toward him but he backs away. He stalks into the bathroom and closes the door behind him, then after a few minutes she can hear the shower running.

"Okay," she whispers to the empty room.


	4. No More Lying

**A/N: YOU GUYS who am I?! I never write sexy times but olitz practically require it. Getting in bed with these two was a little nerve-wracking but ultimately really fun. This is a companion piece to the previous one-shot in this collection "Not Done".**

In the end, Fitz can't stand being angry with her for much longer than a week.

They co-exist in silence for days. He avoids her at night, working late in the Oval when he knows she'll be in the residence watching the news, sipping red wine. He lets her get up first in the morning and then uses one of the many other bathrooms, steering clear of the master bath where he knows she'll be pressing her hair and brushing her teeth. He doesn't set aside time to have lunch with her, he doesn't reach for her in the middle of the night, and he doesn't call her in the afternoon just to hear her voice, to find out how her day is going.

Olivia is painfully aware of the change in his behavior. She _misses_ him. She misses his lips and his hands, the warmth of him against her in bed at night. She misses being with him at the end of a long day, talking, sharing her popcorn. She should be used to missing him, she reasons with herself, but having been with him now, really _been_ with him, makes the loss sharper somehow. She clings to his words, _we'll be okay_ , and gives him space.

At 3am on the tenth day, they're both lying awake in bed, backs turned to one another as has become the new normal.

Liv is lost in thought when she feels him turn over, and her heart is immediately in her throat. Surely he's just shifting in his sleep, she chides herself, but she can tell by the pattern of his breathing that he isn't asleep. And if he's awake then he knows that she's awake, too.

Cautiously, she turns over and sure enough, his stunning blue eyes are looking back at her. She stares at him, trying to remember the last time he made eye contact with her. Fitz gives her a sad smile and shatters the silence with one word, _their_ word.

"Hi."

Instantly her eyes are wet.

" _Hi._ "

He reaches across the bed for her hand, and just the warmth of his palm makes her want to sob.

"Being mad at you is exhausting," he rasps, closing his eyes. They hold hands in the dark for a while, letting some of the tension dissipate.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, starting with the words that have been on the tip of her tongue for days.

"Liv—"

"No, I—I haven't said that to you yet and I need to. I'm sorry that I lied to you. That I _kept_ lying to you…"

They hash it out in their bed. Deep down Fitz knows, he's always known, that she hadn't done what she did to hurt him. He lets her talk first, trying his best to understand how she could possibly have come to the decision she had, gently drawing more explanations out of her when she runs out of words. She takes him back to their conversation on the Truman balcony, squeezing her eyes shut when she admits how terrified she is that they're moving too fast, that if they lose each other this time it will be for good. She tells him that fear drove her decision to do anything and everything to protect their relationship, to save them from a marriage they weren't ready for. The knot in his chest loosens with every word she speaks, and soon they're sharing a pillow, legs tangled as they talk.

His eyes are fiery when he emphasizes that she can tell him _anything_ , that they can't lie to each other, reminding her that they are in this together. He surprises her when he apologizes too, admitting that he still has trouble putting himself in her shoes and promising to try and do better.

They don't expect to solve everything at 4am, but its enough, and when its over she's snuggled against his chest while he presses his lips to her forehead over, and over.

She feels incredible in his arms, and the scent of her hair has warmth pooling low in his belly. Experimentally, he slides his thigh between hers, up to where she's warm and soft. As soon as she inhales sharply and rocks down, welcoming the pressure, the energy between them changes. Even before everything happened it had been several days since they'd had sex, so by now its been over two weeks and they're both more than ready to remedy the situation.

The sun will be up soon but they still have a solid hour, and Fitz rolls her beneath him, her thighs immediately falling open to cradle his hips. He props himself up on his elbows, slowly brushing his mouth against hers without really kissing her, subtly rolling his hips in a way that makes her lose her breath. It never fails to amaze her, how quickly his touch heats her entire body, how easy it is to submit and let him take control.

He's teasing her now, skipping over her lips entirely to press slow, wet, open-mouthed kisses against her neck, nudging to tilt her head and get better access. She hisses when he nips hard at her earlobe, soothing the sting with his tongue and sucking the lobe into his mouth to make her squirm, make her gasp. She runs her hands up and down the plane of his gorgeous back, slipping her fingers into the waistband of his boxers in some teasing of her own as he continues his assault on her neck. Sometimes they're a bit more acrobatic but this morning she's content underneath him, sinking into the mattress under his gentle weight, his clothed erection rocking against her core. They're taking their time in a way they haven't been able to in weeks and it feels decadent.

Eventually though, she gets impatient and pulls his head away from her neck, trying to guide him down into a kiss. She's starting to feel like she hasn't kissed him in months and she knows he's denying her on purpose, making her wait.

"Fitz, please," she sighs, trying and failing again to align their mouths.

"Please what?" he asks, playfully pressing kisses everywhere except her lips.

"Kiss me," she breathes, and then with a hint of a giggle in her voice, "You know you want to."

He pulls back to stare at her with sex-drunk eyes and the hint of a smirk on his face.

"Are you making fun of me?" he asks, threateningly resting his fingers against her ribcage where she's the most ticklish.

Olivia's lips spread into a brilliant smile. It feels so good to tease him, to talk to him again.

"I'm just highlighting the fact that we both get a little dramatic when we want—"

She's so gorgeous when she smiles like that, he can't help but lean down and interrupt her, pressing his mouth to hers with a groan. She flexes up against him and threads her fingers through his curls and _oh yes_. Taking a long inhale through her nose she enjoys the softness of his lips, the familiarity of his nose squished against her cheek. He keeps their kisses slow and lazy, firm presses and gentle brushes, waiting until she's biting at his bottom lip before he slips his tongue into her mouth. As soon as their tongues tangle together she's lightheaded, her toes are curling, and if she were standing she knows her knees would be threatening to give out.

Liv cups the base of his neck with both hands so that she can rub her thumbs over his sensitive ears, something she knows he loves. In between kisses he peels the silky nightgown from her body, laughing with her when one of the straps gets caught in her hair. Her panties are next, flung somewhere over the side of the bed.

"God, your skin," he mumbles, kissing across her shoulders and collarbone, inhaling the scent of her vanilla body lotion.

He props himself up on one elbow and kisses her again, trailing his free hand down her torso, dipping his thumb into her bellybutton to make her stomach clench. Her breath deepens as he gathers moisture from her lower lips and drags it up over her clit, drawing firm circles.

He doesn't pleasure her with his fingers all that often, preferring to make her come apart with his mouth, but something about being close enough to watch the arousal spread across her beautiful face appeals to him this morning. Liv pulls one leg back and out, resting her foot flat against the bed and opening herself to him further. She rubs her hands through his hair, making wordless sounds of encouragement, pulling on his curls as she presses sucking kisses along his jaw. Her breath catches and she whimpers when he gives her more pressure, tapping in tight circles. Fitz dips his fingers down, pressing his middle finger inside her easily, thumb now tracing back and forth over her clit. The sounds she's making are starting to get to him and he grinds his erection against her hip, gaining the smallest amount of relief as he eases a second finger in to join the first. He takes his time, stroking her slowly, curling his fingers and pressing carefully until—

" _Ungh, Fitz..._ "

He bites his lip in amusement when her hands flail for a moment as he finds the right spot, before she settles one back into his hair and the other on his bicep. She rocks her hips against his fingers, her mouth dropping open at the intense sensation as he works her over with different rhythms. Fitz pulls away from her face a little bit so that he can see her better, cataloguing her unconscious reactions, sounds he could coax from her ten thousand times and never tire of hearing. Faster strokes with more pressure against her clit leave her panting and whimpering, but when he slows down and presses up hard against her interior wall she makes a sound halfway between a gasp and a moan, clenching her muscles.

He can tell she's close after a few minutes in the way she moves harder against him, her whole body starting to tense up. Three more circles against her clit and she's coming hard against his hand, crying out and sitting up slightly as the orgasm rushes sharply through her belly. She clutches at his wrist with shaky hands as he brings her down, closing her thighs around his hand and then gently pulling his fingers from her while she catches her breath.

Olivia's eyes flutter open and she immediately pulls him to rest fully on top of her again.

"You're so sexy when you come," he rumbles, sinking his teeth into her neck.

She reaches up and smoothes a few curls away from his forehead, delicately tracing the line of his nose, his eyebrows. Brushing her thumb over his bottom lip she reaches up and gently sucks it into her mouth, causing his hips to thrust once, hard, against her.

Things start to blur together after that, because her entire body is flushed hot and it feels like he's touching her everywhere at once. He lavishes attention on her breasts, sucking each sensitive nipple into his mouth and laving it with his tongue while she arches and writhes beneath him.

"Off, off," she pants, pulling at his boxers, reaching up to kiss his neck.

As soon as he's naked she wraps her hand around his erection, stroking him firmly, carefully tracing the sensitive head with her thumb. He moans and drops his head to her shoulder, giving her the perfect opportunity to run her tongue over the shell of his ear.

"Liv—I, _fuck_."

She can tell by the tension in his back that he can't take her hand on him for very long, so after a moment she uses her legs to bring him forward, lining him up with her entrance, groaning and wrapping her legs around his waist as he slides inside her.

" _Livvie_ ," he breathes against her neck, momentarily overwhelmed by the incredible feeling of her slick walls around him.

When he pulls back to look into her eyes, she lifts her hands up and away from him, resting them on either side of her head. She gives him a soft smile, setting the tone of the encounter without words. He laces their fingers together to pin her hands against the pillows, settling more of his weight on top of her, connecting their lips in a kiss. He rocks deeper into her once, twice, and she exhales unevenly against his mouth.

"You feel so good," she murmurs.

The dance that follows is, for them, like breathing. The push and pull, the give and take, sex between them is easy, it's always been easy, the talking is what trips them up sometimes. They know exactly how to communicate with their bodies, where to bite, where to kiss, how hard to thrust, how to make each other come.

She pushes up against their joined hands, and when Fitz lets her go she drags her nails down his back and his thumb returns to her clit. Its not long at all before she's coming again, arching her back against him and capturing his mouth in a bruising kiss.

He thrusts against her a few more times, emptying inside her, groaning her name over and over. She keeps him wrapped in her arms, shushing him quietly and letting him hide his face in her neck while he catches his breath.

Fitz cancels his first meeting so that they have time for a quick nap.

They clean up and crawl back under the covers, drawing the blinds. She turns over, expecting him to spoon up against her, but he coaxes her to roll back toward the middle of the bed.

"I've seen enough of your back for a while," he sighs, gathering her up against his chest.


	5. I been drinkin', I been drinkin'

**A/N: Okay, my poor broken-hearted Olitz-ers, I come bearing smut. I didn't define a specific episode for this one but I imagine it took place somewhere between 5x04 and 5x05, maybe after a date night. There are two songs in this chapter! I HIGHLY SUGGEST you watch the video for Drunk In Love before you read if you haven't already seen it, because Bey and Jay are so damn cute and it will set the mood for you. The other song I used is She Be The One by Enrique Iglesias (I know, just trust me.). THANK EVERY ONE OF YOU FOR READING!**

Fitz can count on one hand the number of times that he and Olivia have been drunk together.

Once, on the trail, with his wife away doing her own campaign stops, Liv had snuck into his room with an expensive bottle of scotch after a particularly brutal week. She had matched him glass for glass, and it was the first time he'd taken her up against a wall, one of the only times they'd been able to curl up and fall asleep together. The second time, it had been red wine at Camp David. He'd kept his mouth on her in front of the fireplace for what felt like hours, making her come over and over again.

Tonight, they're each drinking their poison of choice. They've had enough to drink that there's been plenty of laughter and silliness, cuddling has quickly turned into making out, and she's been straddling his lap on the couch in her apartment for the past thirty minutes. Her soft gray cashmere sweater and his collared shirt are long gone, leaving her in black leggings and a cream camisole, and him in his dress pants and white undershirt.

Fitz is feeling pleasantly tipsy, but Olivia is moderately drunk, and he is wholeheartedly enjoying the effect alcohol has on her. Her body is warm and pliable in his arms, her tongue loosened by the velvety red wine she's been sipping.

"We should put some music on."

"What?" he asks, his mind a little hazy, drawing intricate patterns against her throat with his tongue.

"Haven't you ever fucked to music before?" she asks with a lazy smile, arms around his neck.

"Mmm, what do you mean? Like with the radio on?" he replies absently, more focused on the little gasping sounds he's pulling from her with his teeth on her collarbone.

"No," she sighs, leaning back languidly, supported by his hands at her lower back. She loses her train of thought for a minute while he sucks on her left nipple through her camisole. She's not wearing a bra and the heat of his mouth feels incredible, even through the cotton.

"I mean a specific song that we play while we're fucking," Liv answers breathily, the slightest hint of a slur to her words. He makes a mental note to get her drunk more often because he _loves_ when she curses.

"It has to be a song that really speaks to you, gets you hot," she continues, playing with the soft curls at the nape of his neck, sucking a kiss against his adam's apple, pressing her breasts against his chest.

Fitz feels like she's everywhere at once, hitting all the spots she knows are sensitive.

"And then, whenever you hear that song you'll think of me," she nuzzles his jaw, moving to murmur right into his ear, "And no matter where you are, no matter what you're doing, you'll get incredibly turned on."

He turns his head and captures her lips in a kiss, his tongue sliding into her mouth.

"I don't need a song to get me hard when I think about you."

He palms her ass and rolls his hips up for emphasis, making sure she can feel the thickness of his erection through her leggings. Her eyes drift closed as he deliberately rocks her back and forth over his lap. When her lips part he captures the bottom one, nibbling on it and sucking it into his mouth.

His fingers stroke low on her belly under her leggings, teasing her, stealing her breath. His hand finally slips down to where she's warm and wet, stretching her with two fingers.

" _Oh_ , that feels good," she whimpers.

His thumb finds her clit and draws lazy circles. He's not using enough pressure to get her off, just enough to make her forget what she was talking about, enough to make more of that delicious tingly heat spread through her hips. She bites her lip and squeezes his shoulders when he hits a particularly good spot, feeling herself get wetter around his fingers.

"Ungh, Fitz, I need—I need—"

"Tell me, pretty girl," he breathes against her chin.

She comes back to herself and leans forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him soundly.

"I need for us to find a song," she whines around his tongue.

His head drops back against the couch with a deep belly laugh.

"You have a one-track mind when you're drunk, do you know that? And you're on the wrong track right now," he laughs, giving her ass a playful spank when she gets up and grabs her phone off of the coffee table.

She giggles and makes her way over to the shelf in the corner of the room, a little unsteady from the combined effects of alcohol and arousal. Docking her phone on the Bose speaker housed on the shelf she brings up a playlist and grabs the remote, walking back over to him.

 _I been drinkin', I been drinkin'_

 _I get filthy when that liquor get into me_

The first bars of music fill the room and she lets them fill her up, swaying her hips as the bass drops in. Liv slips her hands under her camisole, dragging it up and over her head, grazing her breasts in the process.

 _Why can't I keep my fingers off it, baby?_

 _I want you, na na_

Had Fitz known putting music on would result in her dancing he would have agreed immediately. He watches her with hooded eyes as she unceremoniously steps out of her leggings and underwear, bracing herself on his shoulders to climb back into his lap. Her body rolls against him as she gets lost in the song, sighing when his mouth lands on her breasts, tracing a nipple with his tongue. Her fingers brush over his abs and then tug his tee shirt up and off.

His hands slide around to grasp the tops of her smooth thighs, thumbs massaging into her hip creases. She leans forward and rests her lips against his, not kissing him just yet, nuzzling her nose with his, smiling at his groan when she cups him through his pants. She starts to sing along to the song, rubbing the heel of her palm firmly up and down his length.

 _Baby, I want you, na na_

She's torturing him, she knows, and he won't let her get away with it for much longer so she's enjoying it while she can.

" _Daddy, I want you, na na_ ," she sings softly, flicking her tongue at the tip of his ear.

His control snaps at that particular lyric, and before Liv realizes what's happening he's flipped her onto her back and sucked her clit into his mouth with no warning. She cries out and tangles her fingers in his hair, the music pulsing a continuous beat in her peripheral awareness.

 _We be all night, love, love_

The alcohol combined with his mouth is a little overwhelming. She reaches for his hands, which are looped underneath her thighs, and he quickly laces their fingers together, helping her ground herself. Fitz flicks his tongue against the underside of her clit, alternating the flicks with soft suction, making her hips twitch and writhe. When he grazes his teeth over her delicately, her back arches and she starts begging him to stop teasing her, rocking her hips against his mouth. He picks up a rhythm that he knows she loves, feeling her squeeze his hands and moan breathlessly in response. She's been in various states of arousal for so long tonight that it doesn't take much to tip her over the edge. She comes with a gasping moan, belly pulled tight and thighs shaking around his head. He flattens his tongue against her and slowly shakes his head back and forth, finishing out the orgasm until her hips jerk with the oversensitivity and she pulls his head away.

 _I want your body, right here_

He presses a few kisses to her lower belly, resting his chin there and hugging her hips while she catches her breath. Her eyes drift open at the clink of his belt buckle, and she watches appreciatively as he lowers his pants and boxers, stepping out of them. Before he can rejoin her on the couch, Liv stands up and tugs him down to lay on the floor, settling on top of him, getting as much skin-to-skin contact as she possibly can.

"You are so good at that," she whispers, dipping her head down to rub her lips over his neck, kissing the warm skin.

"And I love doing it," he murmurs, skimming his hands up and down her back, letting her cuddle into him for a minute.

His heart swells at the intimate compliment. He knows that they both love when he goes down on her, of course, but any time she lets herself get vulnerable with him it feels special.

She plants her hands on either side of his head and teases his lips open in a slow kiss, tasting herself on his tongue. The song switches over and Liv grinds down against him, the staccato guitar intro fueling her pace. She rocks her hips back, taking the tip of him inside her. Fitz grits his teeth as the sensitive head is enveloped in her incredible silky warmth.

 _She wakes you up, early in the morning_

 _She tells you, "Babe, I feel a little horny…"_

 _She brings you up, and then you know you want it_

"Mmm," he hums against her mouth, unconsciously thrusting his hips up into her, "This song is…how did you put it? Speaking to me? This one is definitely speaking to me," he rasps.

 _I like the way you give it, girl_

"Yeah?"

 _Don't fool yourself_

 _You can't stop it if you try_

She grins at him and sits up, lazily smoothing her hair back and rolling her hips, contracting her muscles around him, taking more of him in. Watching her ride him is intoxicating. Fitz groans at the sight of her body completely on display, driving him crazy on purpose, making him want to knock that little smirk off of her lips.

 _She be the one_

 _She be the drug_

Coaxing her to lay back down on top of him he rolls them over, slipping out of her in the process. Once she's on her back he presses back inside her and curves her left thigh over his forearm, rocking forward until he feels her relax completely, his pelvis flush with hers. He stays deep, forcing the breath out of her with softly rolling hips, sucking a mark into her collarbone. Liv whimpers and wraps her right leg around his thigh, raking her fingers through his hair and down his back.

 _Never get enough_

She's panting into his mouth when he pulls back and leans his forehead against hers. She reaches up with both hands to cradle his face and pull him down into a kiss that's instantly dirty, all tongues and teeth. They keep their mouths connected as Fitz pulls his hips back and puts more weight behind his thrusts, fucking into her deep and hard. She starts to meet his thrusts, breaking their kiss and offering him two of her fingers. He growls low in his chest and briefly sucks them into his mouth, watching her face as she starts to touch herself.

 _She makes you nasty, makes you want to feel pain_

 _Then she'll make you born again_

Her brow furrows, mouth dropping open as she massages her clit and he thrusts faster. He feels it the moment she starts to come, moaning and gasping, and as soon as she starts contracting around him he's done for. His hips jerk erratically and he grunts into her shoulder as he releases inside of her. Liv kneads her fingers into his back, breathing against his temple.

" _Livvie, so good, love you, ungh, Livvie_ …"

He's babbling into her neck, still coming down with shaky thrusts, lowering his weight on top of her and nuzzling her chest. He's drunk on her, sucking on her nipples, pulling out and easing a finger inside of her to feel how hot and wet she is.

" _Fuck_ , Fitz," she shudders, batting his hand away after a minute, too sensitive to take any more.

He rolls them over and they kiss until they can't anymore, luxuriating in the closeness, feeling like they have all the time in the world. Eventually, he stands and drags her protesting form up off the floor, scooping her up and carrying her into her bedroom. She's being so petulant in her sleepy, intoxicated, state that he has to laugh at her, pulling the blankets over them and settling her into his arms.

She mumbles a rare, ' _love you'_ , against his chest.

He basks in it. The love between them is unspoken much of the time, and he knows why she has such a hard time expressing herself. Still, he can't resist teasing her.

"Are you still drunk?"

"No!" she scoffs, swatting at his arm.

Seconds later she giggles and sighs, "Okay maybe a little…"


	6. What do you want?

**A/N: This is a continuation of the "They know about West Angola..." scene in 5x05. I've wanted to flesh that scene out and finish it in fanfic since it aired, so, here it is! Plus for whatever reason I felt like writing smut this weekend...**

* * *

Olivia reaches over him and turns the volume down, knocking on the base of the record player a few times with her knuckle. The record resumes, needle gliding smoothly over the vinyl.

"Sticks sometimes," she mumbles, settling next to him on her side, propping her head up on her hand.

The tension in his body is palpable and she can see him thinking, trying to figure out what to say to Cyrus. Olivia isn't worried about handling Cyrus. He can be handled, he's been handled before.

She lets her eyes roam over his body hungrily. Although the records and the foreplay had partly been to cover their conversation, just in case, she'd also chosen to tell him like this because she's wanted him all day. She's wanted him all week, really, but they've been busy and tired. He's been especially exhausted lately with the impeachment hearings and she doesn't blame him.

More often than not the past few weeks, Fitz will watch the news with her for a few minutes before falling asleep on the couch, staying there until she gently nudges him awake and into bed. On the bad days he climbs into bed and buries his face in her neck, silently asking her to hold him, leaning on her for support. She loves doing it, being that person for him, finally able to be there the way she's wanted to be since they met. But the man is sex personified and she can only take so much.

"Hey," she says softly, waiting until he looks at her.

"We'll handle it, okay? We'll fix it, and we'll put this whole thing behind us."

He nods tightly, staring at the ceiling.

Olivia moves gracefully to straddle him again, nuzzling her face into his neck. She's already keyed up from rolling around with him a few minutes ago, and even though he's momentarily distracted she has no intention of stopping. Enough of his cologne has worn off that his scent, the scent that's uniquely _him_ , is predominant, and it makes wetness pool between her thighs.

"Liv," he starts, his tone telling her he's not sure he can get out of his head right now, although his hands immediately come up to rub her smooth legs.

"You smell so good…want you," she murmurs, exhaling warm air over his neck, ignoring his half-hearted protest.

"All of this wasn't just so I could tell you about the senators...want you so badly, been thinking about it all day," Liv whines, kissing the sensitive skin behind his ear, trailing her lips down to his collarbone and back up again. She feels his breath deepen, can tell he's affected.

"You owe me after this morning, taking that phone call in your towel for twenty minutes, all damp from the shower. C'mon baby…"

She sighs in relief when his hands slide up her thighs and under her nightgown to cup the globes of her ass, squeezing appreciatively. When she pulls back to look at him he's relaxed, a small, amused smile playing on his lips. She kisses him softly a few times, warming them back up into the moment.

"Don't you dare laugh at your poor, horny girlfriend, mister," she warns, dropping her head back down. His hips rock up against her as she nips his earlobe sharply, sucking a few kisses against the side of his neck.

"I wouldn't dream of laughing at you," he rasps, catching her mouth with his and kissing her heatedly.

"I've been distracted. It's not that I don't want you, never think that I don't want you, Livvie," Fitz says between kisses.

"Shh, I know," she soothes him, "I know. Just be here with me right now, touch me," she whispers, pressing her hips down.

"Mmm, what do you want?" he asks, sliding his fingers beneath her underwear, caressing her bare skin.

"You want me to show you or tell you?" she says, smiling against his mouth at the familiar game.

"Both."

Liv sits up, looking down at him with slightly parted lips. His hands slide up to her waist as she settles back, taking her time, grinding down on him. He groans softly, his formerly flagging erection stiffening beneath the deliberate movement of her hips. She takes his hands and guides them up to cover her breasts, sighing as his palms close around them with gentle pressure.

"I love your hands," she breathes, breath hitching as his thumbs brush over her nipples, "They're so perfect."

Fitz pulls at the hem of her negligee, tugging it over her head and leaving her in a pair of soft, cream-colored lace panties.

"I love these," he murmurs, running his finger under the waistband.

She tugs on his arm, pulling him to sit up.

"Want your mouth, _yes_ ," she hisses, guiding him to her breasts, tangling her fingers in his hair.

Her breasts are sensitive and right now they're heavy, aching, the hot, wet pressure of his mouth making her gasp. He presses open-mouthed kisses over each mound for a few minutes, nuzzling and nipping at the soft skin on the undersides. He blows cool air over her nipples but doesn't give her contact right away, teasing her, winding her up. She tugs him closer and breathlessly murmurs his name when his lips finally close over her left nipple, tracing it with his tongue, sucking with the perfect amount of pressure.

He's only made her come like this a couple times before, when the stars align and she's completely relaxed, or exceptionally turned on, or both. It's always a joint effort to make it happen and he loves that, he loves how well he knows her body, how easily he can read her signals.

Liv is moaning, raking her fingers over his scalp, telling him without words how good he's making her feel. He gives her other breast equal attention, drawing circles over her nipple, paying careful attention to her reactions and following with gentle suction each time her moans escalate. She starts to guide his movements again, tugging on his hair to move him from one breast to the other, back and forth, until he picks up the rhythm that's working for her. Fitz glances up just in time to see her lick her lips, taking in her furrowed brow, her ragged breaths.

"I'm so close, don't stop," she gasps, dropping her head back between her shoulder blades, confirming what he'd suspected.

He hums against her and drags his hands down her sides, dipping his thumbs into the waistband of her underwear, resting them tantalizingly close to her clit without actually sliding down to press against it.

"Oh my god, _Fitz_ ," she sobs, a hint of desperation in her voice.

He brings his teeth into play, dragging them over each nipple gently at first, biting a little harder at her urging. It's the push she needs, several minutes of _lick, suck, bite_ , gets her there and she's able to fall over the edge. She gasps three times in quick succession, her whole body stiffening against him, thighs clenched tight around his lap. Seconds later she relaxes into the orgasm, panting and holding his mouth against her right breast with one hand, the other hand coming up to cover his where it rests over her left breast, squeezing and massaging with him.

He lets go of her nipple and starts pressing slow, soft kisses against her skin, bringing her down. Liv pulls him away from her breasts and pushes him to lie back against the pillows, lying down on top of him, still catching her breath. Fitz has a shit-eating grin on his face when she leans up to look at him and she rolls her eyes playfully, unable to keep the smile off of her face.

"So proud of yourself," she sighs, kissing him deeply.

"How many of those kinds of orgasms have you had?" he asks, rolling them over and pinning her hands against the pillows, lacing their fingers together.

"Four," she answers softly, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

"And who've they all been with?" he growls possessively, sending a flash of heat through her entire body.

"You," she murmurs against his lips, indulging him, "You're the only one who can make me come that way."

He teases her mouth open in a languid kiss, brushing their tongues together. She groans as he starts to rock his hips down, the pressure of his erection against her clit welcome and heavenly. Pushing him to sit up she quickly pulls her soaked underwear off, watching as he tugs his boxers down and rejoins her on the bed. She climbs back into his lap and grasps his cock, stroking him firmly, pressing her thumb just under the head.

"Need you to fuck me," she breathes, already starting to turn around.

Fitz sits back on his heels, palming her hips to pull her back over his lap. He guides his erection up through her folds, sliding it back and forth a few times, coating himself in her wetness. Liv whimpers when he brushes the head over her clit, and he almost laughs at her impatience when she reaches down and knocks his hand out of the way. His hands slide around and rest low on her belly as she sits back, guiding him inside her. She laces their fingers together against her belly and breathes out on a shaky exhale, spreading her knees a little wider so she can sit back against him.

"Ungh, _fuck_ , Livvie—feels so good," he moans, dropping his forehead against the back of her neck, pressing kisses there.

She leans back against him, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull his mouth down to hers. Liv sighs against his lips, rolling her hips, kissing him deeply. Fitz groans as she starts to ride him, squeezing his hands over her thighs to feel the muscles working, sucking on the sensitive spot near her jawline. He meets her thrusts, fucking up into her.

"Harder, baby," she breathes against his ear after a few minutes, moaning when he lets his hips snap up.

"Like this?" he asks, thrusting up hard, wanting to hear her say it.

"Like that," she moans, turning her head to nuzzle her face into his neck.

She wraps both of her arms around his neck, arching her back, giving him free reign over her body. Fitz growls low in his chest and kisses her shoulder, cupping her hips firmly as he pushes up against her over and over. She feels hotter and more slick with every thrust and he needs her to come again soon because he's not going to last much longer. Liv tenses up and cries out when his fingers trail down to rub her clit, so lost in the feeling of his cock stretching her that the pressure catches her off guard. She's coming a second later, contracting around him so tightly that he comes too, gritting his teeth and biting the back of her neck, groaning loudly. They rock together for a little while, kissing lazily, soaking in the aftershocks.

Lifting up slowly she eases him out of her and falls forward onto her hands, rolling over onto her back.

"C'mere," she murmurs, wanting him close.

He drops down onto the mattress and pulls her into his arms, pulling the blankets over their cooling bodies. Fitz sighs contentedly as she snuggles against his chest, rubbing her hand through the patch of hair in the center.

"I love that position, you have the sexiest back," he breathes sleepily, smoothing his hand up and down her back soothingly.

"I know you do," she smiles, loving his lack of filter right after he's had an orgasm.

"We're so good at that, we should have sex every day," he mumbles, squeezing her closer.

"I'm gonna remind you that you said that tomorrow night, when you're falling asleep at eight-thirty," she warns, teasing him.

He shushes her playfully, pressing a kiss against her forehead.


	7. Superpowers

**A/N: I know, I know, I'm supposed to be working on The Right Kind of Madness. I have about half of my next chapter written and I'm really hoping to post it next weekend. In the meantime, I wanted to put something up and I've had baby-fic on the brain recently for some reason. This is SUPER fluffy, just a warning, but that's how I roll sometimes. This is sort of canon, its basically written as if the events from 5x06 and beyond never happened, and they stayed together until the end of Fitz's presidency. Enjoy!**

* * *

"No, Quinn, I'm not available tomorrow. I—listen you can handle this, you're ready. No! For the last time, do not call me! I'm not compromising on this, I need this long weekend, I've barely seen Fitz and Micah this week and—okay. Good, that's what I want to hear. Go, fix, handle, and _don't_ call me."

Olivia ends the call with Quinn and nods politely to the secret service agent stationed at her front door. Walking through the foyer, her steps quicken when she hears her son's cries from upstairs. He should be content by now, winding down for the evening, but he sounds distraught. Not bothering to take off her coat or hang up her bag, she heads straight up the stairs.

She stops in the doorway of the nursery and Fitz turns to her wearily, gently bouncing a crying Micah in his arms.

"What's going on?" she asks, dropping her bag in the hallway.

"He's upset," Fitz offers unhelpfully, tiredly rubbing Micah's back.

"I can see that, why is he so upset?"

When the baby sees Olivia his cries intensify and he reaches for her, leaning away from Fitz. She comes into the room and lets Fitz put Micah in her arms, holding him close.

"Hey you, you're okay," she murmurs.

As soon as she takes him he's rooting against her chest, pulling at the fabric of her coat and crying pathetically.

"Didn't you feed him?" Liv asks, confused.

"Yes, Olivia, I fed our child," he replies sarcastically, "He ate two purees around—"

"No, I meant a bottle, has he had a bottle yet?" she asks, ignoring his sarcasm and shrugging out of her coat one arm at a time, juggling the still crying baby.

"Why would I—what time is it?" Fitz asks, taking Micah from her while she unbuttons and removes the blazer she's wearing, causing the pitch of his cries to heighten.

"It's seven-thirty, Fitz. We have a freezer full of breastmilk, why didn't you just—"

"He's too worked up to take a bottle, I've been trying to calm him down! You know how he is when he gets like this, he only wants you! You were supposed to be home forty-five minutes ago, Liv! Why didn't you call?"

She fixes him with a pointed stare, raising her eyebrows at the tone of his voice. Her breasts are tingling uncomfortably and she can feel herself starting to let down as Micah cries.

"Go. I've got him," she states, holding her arms out for Micah, not making eye contact.

"What do you—"

"I said, go. Go take five," she repeats, cradling the baby and settling into the rocking chair.

'Go take five' is their code for _go calm down_ , or _go away and don't come back until you're ready to have an adult conversation_ , depending on the situation. Judging by the look on her face she means the latter, and Fitz instantly recognizes that he's being an asshole, that yelling at her was uncalled for.

He pauses in the doorway and looks back, hoping to offer her an unspoken apology, but she's completely focused on comforting their son. He retreats into the bedroom, taking a deep breath and running his hands over his face.

Olivia pulls her shirt up and unclips the right side of her nursing bra with practiced ease.

"Shh, sweet boy, you're alright," she soothes, offering her breast until he's calm enough to latch on.

Instantly, the house is silent. Comforted by the scent of his mother and the sound of her voice, Micah quiets and starts to nurse enthusiastically.

"There we go," she coos, softly, "All better, huh? No more crying."

Micah eats with gusto, his hand reaching up to grab a fistful of her shirt. Liv rests her head against the back of the chair, unconsciously playing with one of his little feet. She closes her eyes for a minute, pushing away thoughts of work, clearing her mind, slowing her breathing. It's something she regularly does when she's nursing Micah, she makes a concerted effort to be present in these quiet moments with her son, soaking up the special time with him. When she opens her eyes and looks down at him he's waiting, big brown eyes blinking owlishly up at her.

Micah had been an accident. At thirty-eight years old, she had accidentally gotten pregnant, and she'd never been more terrified. Fitz found her sitting on the bathroom floor hours after taking the pregnancy test, still in a state of complete shock. He had pulled her into his arms, letting her cry, reassuring her that she wasn't a terrible person for being scared (as he would continue to do, many times, over the course of her pregnancy).

 _What do you want to do, Livvie?_

She'd never loved him more than she had in that moment, the moment he gave her an out, should she choose to take it. After all, babies with her had always been his dream, not hers. Although she would have been lying if she'd said the thought never crossed her mind, she couldn't imagine actually terminating the pregnancy. This baby was theirs, they'd created it together, and even though she couldn't say she was happy about the surprise, she _wanted_ their baby.

 _"_ _So…we're having a baby?" Fitz asks, tentatively_

 _"_ _We're having a baby," she replies shakily, dropping her head to his shoulder_

The timing of it all couldn't have been any better. She was only four months pregnant when he left office, her small bump easily concealed during his final public appearances as POTUS. The two of them kept a low profile after moving into their new home just outside of Alexandria, close enough to OPA that Liv could still commute to work, and far enough out of D.C. that they weren't constant targets for the media. They finally confirmed her pregnancy publicly when she was almost eight months along, making an appearance at a fundraiser and releasing a joint statement to the media asking for privacy.

Micah Pope Grant was a June baby. Beginning on a warm morning in mid-June, Olivia labored for fourteen hours in a small, private birthing center run by a group of four midwives. Her labor hadn't been dramatic, or chaotic, instead it had been a surprisingly quiet experience. Their midwife checked in periodically, but for the most part Olivia and Fitz had been left to their own devices. No family to alert, no friends in the waiting room, just the two of them, living in three-minute increments.

Fitz had been a rock, helping her breathe, gently reminding her to keep her body as relaxed as possible, coaching her through each excruciating contraction. Olivia had walked, rocked, moaned, and finally spent the last two hours of active labor in the only position that felt remotely manageable, sitting on a birthing ball with her arms draped around Fitz's neck. For those last two hours, they didn't need to speak a word to each other. Being able to breathe him in and feel his warm hands against her back was instantly comforting, and as soon as she dropped her forehead to his shoulder she knew she wouldn't be moving again. Liv simply let him support the weight of her upper body, focused solely on breathing, on picturing each violent spasm bringing her one step closer to meeting her son.

Much to everyone's surprise, including her own, Olivia took to motherhood like a duck to water. She instantly fell head over heels for Micah. He mesmerized her with his soft caramel skin, his perfect pouty lips, his deliciously chunky cheeks, his intoxicating baby smell. Nothing could have prepared her for the intense, all-consuming love she felt for her child. While there were plenty of moments in which she felt like she had no idea what she was doing, it shocked her that a lot of the time her instincts were spot on when she trusted herself. It shocked her to realize she had the power to soothe her crying baby simply by being his mom, by picking him up and letting him hear her voice.

The only person who didn't seem surprised by it all was Fitz. Having been on the receiving end of her love, he knew she had the capability to be tender and caring, that she would be an incredible mother. However, for the past few years he had recognized and understood the fact that just because she would be great at mothering didn't necessarily mean she _wanted_ to be a mother. Watching her fall in love with being their son's mom had secretly relieved him, because things could have gone very differently. Having a baby when you aren't sure you'll actually enjoy caring for it is risky business. Fitz knew she would love their child, but seeing how much she loved caring for Micah brought another level of enjoyment to the parenting experience.

Having literally taken a five-minute breather, Fitz walks back down the hallway just in time to hear Micah protesting while she switches sides.

"I know, I know, shh. You're not finished, I know, but that one's empty, hang on one second peanut," Liv is saying, reasoning with their six-month-old as if he's in grade school.

One of Fitz's favorite things to do is listen in while she talks to the baby, especially when she has no idea he's there.

"Alright, you're good now," she murmurs, sighing contentedly, "So, what was going on today? What did you do to Daddy that he looks so exhausted? Hmm? Why is Daddy so grumpy? Are you getting more teeth?"

Fitz nods his head as if she can see him. Teething is a bear.

"You have to go easy on Daddy, okay buddy? He's old, he has enough gray hair as it is."

 _Ooh, busted_

Fitz chuckles, stepping into the doorway to find her already looking at him. Her eyes are tired but they're shining with affection, and she beckons him into the room. He stops to dim the lights a little bit and crosses over to the rocker, pulling the ottoman around so he can sit down next to her. Micah's eyes track over to look at Fitz for a moment, cataloguing his presence, and then he slides his gaze back to focus on Liv's face.

"I'm sorry I yelled, you didn't deserve that," he apologizes softly, cupping her face and stroking over her cheekbone with his thumb.

She takes his hand and kisses his palm.

"I know what it's like when he's been crying like that, it gets really tense. And I should have called, I was just anxious to get home to you guys," she replies, adjusting Micah slightly and slipping her fingers into his little hand.

"I brought him up here thinking I could get him to wait a few minutes for you, I know how much you love nursing him at night. But I lost track of time," Fitz finishes.

"It's okay," she says quietly, giving him a soft smile.

They're both silent for a few minutes, eyes on their son, his soft suckling and swallowing noises filling the room. His ex-wife had never wanted to invest any time or effort into breastfeeding their children, so watching Liv do it has been a whole new experience for Fitz. Micah has adapted well to taking bottles from Fitz during the day, but in the morning and at night there's no substitute for his mom, and no one can comfort him quite like she can.

"You're so good with him," he muses, spotting one of her many water bottles behind the rocking chair and handing it to her.

"Eh, it's just the boobs," she shrugs nonchalantly, taking a sip of water, cracking him up.

"I mean they definitely help, but you deserve a little more credit than that," Fitz laughs.

"Did you guys have a good day?" she asks as Micah pulls away from her.

She props him up against her shoulder and puts herself back together, pulling her shirt down, before trying to coax a burp out of him.

"Yeah, overall it was fine, he's been fussy but I think you're right, he's probably getting another tooth. Tell me about court," he prompts.

"This judge is the worst, I don't want to talk about it," she says, rolling her eyes, "I know Quinn can handle it, I've been prepping her all week. As long as she doesn't psych herself out."

"Why have you been prepping Quinn?" he asks, brow furrowed.

"Because I won't be there," she reveals, looking forward to his reaction, "I'm taking a long weekend, spending some time with my boys."

Micah chooses that moment to let out an enormous burp.

"Excuse you, little mister," Liv teases, pulling him back from her shoulder and sitting him on her thighs so she can see his face.

His eyes focus on her for a second before his face breaks out into a big, gummy smile, save for his two tiny bottom teeth.

"Happy boy," she coos, automatically smiling back at him, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

"So milk-drunk," Fitz chuckles.

Micah's eyes squeeze shut as he goes into a fully-body yawn, his little mouth stretching open as far as it will go.

"Oh, _sleepy_ boy," Liv laughs softly, bringing him forward against her chest, starting to move the rocking chair back and forth.

Sure enough, he rubs his face against her shoulder and lays his head down, eyes already heavy.

"Sure, all you have to do is give him a hug and he goes to sleep for you. You should've seen us at naptime today, you would've thought I was trying to put him down onto a bed of nails," Fitz complains, smoothing a hand over Micah's back affectionately.

"Mommy superpowers," she shrugs by way of explanation, grinning at him.

Micah burrows into her neck and sighs dramatically, his eyes fluttering shut. Fitz looks at her incredulously, gesturing to their now sleeping baby.

"Aww, you have Daddy superpowers too," she soothes, "No one makes him laugh as hard as you do, with that crazy-eyes face you make."

"That did come in handy a few times today," he relents, "Wait, are you really taking tomorrow and the entire weekend off?"

"You guys must've had a rough day, I was waiting for you to process that," she says with a smile, "I've had one too many working Saturdays lately, I miss you. And I miss him. He's changing so fast, some days I come home and wonder if he'll even remember who I am."

"Livvie, that's ridiculous, he _adores_ you. When you decided to go back to work I told you I'd support your decision one hundred percent, and I still do."

"I know, and I love you for that. I'm not saying I regret working…I need it, I need it to really feel like myself. But as much as I love it, I don't ever want him to doubt that he comes first," she muses, carefully kissing Micah's forehead.

"He won't," Fitz emphasizes.

She smiles gratefully at him, thankful that he never seems to get tired of reassuring her.

"Three-day weekend, huh? What do you want to do?" he asks, grinning boyishly.

"So, Saturday, I was thinking maybe we'd see if Aunt Abby wants to take him for the afternoon. You know, give us a chance to have some mommy-daddy time," Liv suggests, pulling him closer.

"That sounds like a good plan, maybe I'll get the chance to use my _other_ set of superpowers," he murmurs, hovering his lips over hers.

"That's exactly what I had in mind," she breathes, tilting her mouth up.

They keep their kisses slow and sweet, mindful of the sleeping baby snuggled in Liv's arms.


	8. Tramp

**A/N: So, this is a little ficlet with some thoughts I had right after watching 5x10. I'm simultaneously grossed out (mostly) and intrigued by the olake hate-sex that seems to be going on right now, and I felt the need to break down Liv's thought process a little bit. I'm also really mad at her for coping this way, she's so much better than this, so that probably snuck into the piece as well. I might end up doing little ficlets like these after a lot of the episodes, just a knee-jerk, whatever-I-feel-like-writing sort of thing. Let me know if you guys like these little reaction fics! EDIT to add: This one-shot is a little different for me and it won't appeal to everyone.** **These one-shots will be a collection of all kinds of things, loving Olitz, angry Olitz, sad Olitz, sexy Olitz.** **Just for the record I still ship Olitz and I believe 100% that they BELONG together.**

* * *

She throws all of the locks on the door and waits until the elevator starts to descend. She checks through the peephole one more time, just to make sure he's really gone, and then she walks back to the bathroom. Cranking the shower up as hot as it will go, Liv drops the blanket from around her body and starts to gather her hair up into a bun. She catches sight of herself in the mirror and stops, lifting her arm to examine the deep purple hickey he's left underneath. Eyeing herself in the mirror, she does a slow circle. Bruises on her hips, teeth marks underneath her breasts, scratches over her ass, she's covered in the remnants of their—whatever it is they're doing.

He's getting too comfortable again.

He'd tried to pillow talk her tonight, and she'd coldly kicked him out, because that's not why he's here and he knows it. Talking, laughing, _feelings_ , are off the table. All of her feelings are carefully packed away inside a tiny box, not to be opened for the foreseeable future.

Jake tests her patience, but he's better than a random stranger. They've been sleeping together long enough that he knows most of her spots, he knows what she likes, he can make her come like the good little human vibrator that he is. She trusts him enough to let him get rough with her, slam her around, pull her hair, all of the things that help her forget who he _isn't_. What they do is sweaty, and acrobatic, and exhausting, and on most days she can convince herself it's what she needs right now. It numbs her mind and ignites her body, which is how she prefers her private life these days.

But some days, a lot more days recently, actually, there's an ache somewhere deep inside that she can't soothe with her usual coping mechanisms. On those days, those long, frustrating, draining days, she just doesn't have the energy to power struggle in the bedroom with him. On those days, what she really needs is to just give herself over to it, to get lost in it, to free fall into the bliss of it and trust someone to catch her. She needs to physically hand control over to someone else, to be truly submissive, to truly put someone else in control of her pleasure. She needs someone to be soft with her, to tell her it's okay to let go, that she doesn't have to be so strong all the time.

And she doesn't trust Jake enough to do any of that. She never has and she never will. There's only one man she's ever been able to really let go with, and he's gone.

Bile rises unexpectedly in her throat and hot tears slide down her face, as she eyes the marks he's left all over her. Hesitantly, she meets her own eyes in the mirror and shame colors her face, not for having meaningless sex, but for ignoring her truth. The truth is, no amount of hate-sex or stolen scotch is going to fill the gaping hole in her life. She knows it, she just isn't ready to face it yet.

 _He stood in his truth, he always stands in his truth, and you let him down._

 _If only Fitz could see you now,_ the voice in her head whispers.

 _You don't even deserve him, anymore. Tramp._


	9. Catharsis: I

**A/N: This might be the most emotional piece I've ever written. I was a little hesitant to write it, but I casually pitched the idea to my girl iwrite4olitz last week and she encouraged me to go for it. This is post-5x11. The way that Liv is holding in and ignoring all of her feelings is a bit of a dangerous game, in my opinion. These types of things tend to really eat away at a person until they become a shell of themselves, or, they have a "come to Jesus" moment, a catharsis.**

* * *

 _noun:_ _ **catharsis**_

 **1**. the process of **releasing** , and thereby providing **relief** from, strong or **repressed** emotions.

* * *

 _Is this what rock bottom feels like?_

She wonders if that's what this is, this anxious, desperate, breathless, out-of-body feeling. She's not even completely sure how she ended up here tonight, at The White House, waiting outside the residence, begging to see Fitz. She doesn't really remember calling in favors from Charlotte and the Secret Service, although she knows she must have. She really has no idea who drove her here and, oh god, did she drive herself?

More tears slide down her face and she brings a shaking hand to her forehead, wrapping her arm around herself as she paces. She feels sick all of a sudden, her stomach aching like the rest of her body. She wants to crawl out of her skin. Emotion seems to be forcing it's way out of her involuntarily, and her chest heaves with a whimpering sob.

 _Get it together, stop crying, what the hell is wrong with you, Olivia?_

Everyone knows her, of course, so she isn't detained as a security threat, more as a personal favor she supposes.

 _Where is he?_

She just needs Fitz. He'll make it better, he can make it stop. She just needs to see him, touch him.

Finally, _finally_ , Secret Service comes back and he comes around the corner, out into the living room.

"Olivia?"

She has to physically stop herself from jumping into his arms, burying herself in him.

Fitz doesn't know what to make of her sudden appearance at first. She looks…awful. Well, she looks beautiful, she's always beautiful to him, but aside from that she looks _terrible_. There are deep purple circles under her eyes, which are red and puffy as if she's been crying for a while. Her mascara is smudged, and her face is thinner than the last time he'd seen her, she looks like she could use a few orders of the White House penne vodka.

"Liv?" he tries again, because she hasn't said anything yet, she's just standing there wringing her hands, which are shaking badly.

Just his scent makes tears pool in her eyes as she brushes past him into the living room, silently walking back into his bedroom.

"Liv? Olivia, what are you doing here?" he asks, trying to keep any emotion out of his voice, following her into the bedroom.

He's fully prepared to turn her away, to tell her to get out, that she has a lot of nerve coming here like this. But then she turns around, and the look on her face takes his breath away.

"Liv," he murmurs, "What's wrong?"

She stares at him for a second, opening and then closing her mouth like she doesn't know how to tell him what's wrong, like maybe she's not even sure what it is. She _wants_ to tell him, she _needs_ to tell him but she doesn't have the words, she never has the _fucking_ words.

"I hurt," she whispers, the only explanation she's able to offer, "Everything hurts. I'm so…it _hurts_."

He's never seen her like this before, and it's setting off alarm bells in his head. Liv doesn't cry often, he can count on one hand the number of times she's let tears fall in front of him. She's not just upset, she's frantic, she's disheveled, she's desperate, and already he's aching to do whatever he can to comfort her. She wouldn't have come to him like this unless something was terribly wrong, she's too proud. Is she having a panic attack? Some kind of breakdown? He's not sure he cares at this point. After everything…he still loves her, deep down she's still his Livvie. It's not in his DNA to turn her away looking like this, he's not sure he even knows how.

"What's going on, Liv? Did—did someone hurt you?" he asks, fearing the worst, walking toward her slowly.

Immediately she's shaking her head, her chin trembling, fists clenching and unclenching at her sides.

"Not like that," she reassures him, "I just—I can't— _Fitz_."

The pitch of her voice _destroys_ him and he shouldn't, _fuck,_ he _shouldn't_ , but he immediately closes the distance between them, lightly rubbing her upper arms. He concentrates on her face with furrowed brows, watching her get frustrated when she can't express herself the way she needs to, a few silent tears slipping down her cheeks.

"I'm right here. Tell me," he pleads, needing her to let him in.

"Can we pretend for a little while? Can we just go back? For tonight, pretend with me," she whimpers breathlessly, fruitlessly wiping tears from her face.

"Liv, come here—"

He tries to bring her closer, to hold her, but her palms come up against his chest and she refuses. She doesn't want to be held, she needs him to touch her, she needs him so deep inside of her that she can't think, she can't breathe, she can't _hurt_.

"No, _no_ , I need you to make it stop. Just for a little while, _please_ Fitz," she whispers, trying and failing to keep her breathing in check.

And then he knows exactly what she's asking him for, what she wants; she can see his expression change as it registers. She wouldn't blame him one bit if he decided to turn her away, and for a few seconds she thinks he's going to. She tries to steel herself for his rejection, even though she's already laid everything out on the table, she's already as vulnerable as she's ever been in front of him. The way she's feeling right now, she's not sure what will happen if tells her to leave, but then…

"This?" he asks quietly, pressing his forehead to hers, bringing her body close.

He's no stranger to comfort sex with her, its something they've done before, but this time is different. She's beyond vulnerable and he needs to hear her say it, he needs to be sure.

" _Please. Yes_ ," she breathes, her voice breaking, the smallest amount of relief flooding her system.

The second he kisses her she can't hold it back any more and she starts to cry, openly.

"Liv—"

"Please, please, please don't stop, don't—" she begs, grasping handfuls of his tee shirt.

She's crying too much to kiss him back, so he dips his head to her neck. He's gentle with her, _so_ gentle, nuzzling his lips to her skin, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses. For a few minutes, the softer he is with her, the more she sobs, gasping in shock and relief. His touch is the antithesis of everything she's been putting herself through lately, all of the roughness, the hatred, the self-loathing. It makes her ache. After shutting her emotions down for so long, all of her nerve endings are raw and exposed, and every place he touches her explodes into the worst kind of pins and needles. She fights against the urge to touch him, wanting to push him away and pull him closer at the same time, hands awkwardly open in the air over his arms. But he gathers her up against him and, with a fresh wave of tears, she slides her hands onto his biceps, rubbing her thumbs over his skin. It takes her a while to hear him but he's shushing her between kisses, rubbing a warm, soothing palm over her back, trying to calm her.

Her tears ebb, but she can't calm down, tearing at their clothes, letting him steal a chaste kiss here and there, desperate to get him inside of her. Something is pulling at her, telling her to slow down, but she can't, she's not sure she knows how anymore, _she just needs it to stop_.

 _It's Fitz…you're here with Fitz_

She pulls him onto the bed, on top of her, and Fitz follows her lead as best he can. Despite how worried he is about her, he's _missed_ her, he's hard for her, he wants her. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't aching for her, aching to be inside her, but right away something's not right. She's already wrapping her legs around him, trying to pull him in. He can feel that she's wet, but not wet enough that he can comfortably slide inside her. He knows her body, he knows she needs a little more foreplay and she's not letting him. She stops him when he tries to kiss her neck, her breasts, guiding his lips back to hers, knocking his hands away when he tries to touch her. He feels what she's trying to do and he's not having it. Her body is responding to him but her mind is still somewhere else. He's not sure what she's been going through, or what would make her want him to be that rough with her, but whatever it is he wants no part of it.

"Hey, stop, _stop_ ," he whispers, gently pinning her hands down, "I'm not going to hurt you, I won't do that. I'll do this with you but not like that. Relax, _Livvie_."

The nickname slips out and falls over her like a silk sheet. She makes eye contact with him and for the first time tonight she feels like she's seeing him, like she's truly there with him, like she's finally coming out of it.

 _It's Fitz…your Fitz_

Something settles inside her, and her heartbeat slows from a frantic thump into smooth, pulsing arousal. Her shoulders and thighs relax into the bed and he lets her go, propping himself up with his elbows beside her ears. Tentatively, she brings her hands to his face, brushing her right thumb over his lips. He leans down and her mouth falls open against his, welcoming his tongue. When she moans softly into his mouth, he knows he has her back, he knows she's finally hearing him.

" _Let me_ ," he murmurs between kisses.

She lets go.

She closes her eyes and lets him rain tender kisses over her breasts, laving her nipples. She lets him slide his fingers through her folds, pressing against every good place inside her, coaxing rush after rush of moisture from her until she's soaked for him. He's sure and firm, he doesn't tease, he touches her with years of practice, years of knowing her body even better than she does. She cries again when he slides his tongue between her thighs, guiding her hands into his hair the way she likes after realizing she won't indulge and do it herself. She can't stop the tears as he sucks her clit into his mouth, pulling a strong orgasm from her with more ease and familiarity than anyone she's ever been with.

No one knows her the way he does.

No one sees her the way he does.

 _He just wants to love me, why can't I let him?_

With her climax comes another tidal wave of emotion, overwhelming and unbearable.

" _Oh, sweetheart,_ " he breathes, when he sees her face.

And that just makes her cry harder because he _never_ calls her that, she never _lets_ him call her that, he's only gotten away with it during a handful of particularly vulnerable moments. She covers her face and sobs into her hands, trying to hide from him. He pulls her hands away, wrapping her arms around his neck instead, rolling them onto their sides so he can hold her.

She clings to him and presses her face into his neck, knotting her fingers in his hair, drawing comfort from being in his arms, although the tears keep coming. He cups the back of her head with one hand, smoothing the other up and down her bare back. Her body jerks against him with the force of her sobs, everything she's been holding inside spilling out in a violent upheaval. She can barely take a breath her chest is so tight, her stomach muscles clenched uncomfortably as she cries. What's happening is completely out of her control and it terrifies her, but he's there. His arms are strong around her, he's warm and safe, and even though she's coming apart she knows he won't let her fall. He'll catch her, he _is_ catching her. She manages to get his name out between sobs, needing to hear his voice.

" _Fitz, Fitz_."

"I'm here," he murmurs, wrapping her up a little tighter, "I've got you."

She's been trying so hard not to feel for so long and now she feels _everything_ at once. She feels the terror and helplessness of being taken, the exhaustion of fighting against PTSD, the loneliness of her self-induced isolation. She feels the sorrow, the anguish of losing her mother over and over again, and then the guilt for feeling sorrowful because who grieves a murderer? She feels the hurt and the grief of her secret, the abortion. She feels the shame of her deception. But the intense sadness is the most gripping, the longing, for him. Those are the feelings that are buried the deepest, that cause the most pain when they're finally unearthed. She misses him, always. Since the moment they met, when she's not near him, she misses him, and the feeling has only deepened with time. For every minute they spend together, the pain of then _not_ being together grows exponentially harder to bear. It's been growing until right now, this minute, when she finally can't bear it anymore and it crushes her, breaking her down until she has nothing left inside.

Eventually, she can't cry anymore. Her sobs taper off and it takes her a little while to get her breath back. Fitz never lets her go, his embrace never wavers, his arms are constant, comforting pressure around her. She's exhausted, the kind of tired that makes her feel almost delirious. But it doesn't stop her from wanting him, she needs him more than ever.

"Still need you. _Please_ —"

"Don't beg, Livvie," he whispers.

Normally begging would be a turn on but not tonight, not like this.

" _Fitz_."

"Shh, okay. I just—"

When he hesitates, she reaches down and finds he's not hard anymore. Of course he isn't, how could he be when she's just spent the last ten minutes sobbing in his arms?

She rolls him to his back and slides over him, looking down into his eyes. His hands come up to brush over her cheeks, wiping away the remnants of tears, smoothing delicately over her nose, her eyebrows. Her eyes close, and she realizes that she's finally calm, she can breathe. She feels empty, but not in a way that feels hollow or lonely. She feels empty, in the best way possible. She feels clean. As his hands caress her face it occurs to her that maybe, in this moment, being empty is a good thing. Maybe she's purged every bad and horrific thing inside of her, every negative demon that's been weighing her down and in doing so, maybe she's finally made room for _good_. For hope. For love. For _him_.

For the moment, she doesn't dwell on it, because now all she wants to do is touch him, she wants to give him back everything he's given her, this beautiful man. Starting at his lips, she kisses her way down his neck, taking an extra minute to play over the spot just below his pulse, the one that makes him hiss and grab at her. She rocks her hips over his and nuzzles his ears, nipping, sucking, making him gasp and growl. She kisses down his body, over his hips, pushing his hands away when he tries to pull her back up like he always does. She takes him in her mouth, sucking softly, using her tongue to press and tease and coax him back to full hardness, loving on him in one of the best ways she knows how. As soon as she wraps her hand around the base of him, stimulating all the silky skin her mouth can't reach, the warm, wet pressure is too much and he eases her away, flipping her onto her back.

When he slides inside her she moans breathlessly. His first thrusts are heaven, the easy glide and stretch of him setting her belly on fire. Sex hasn't felt this good in so long. She's grown so used to pleasured pain that borders less on pleasure. She's grown used to the self-inflicted, uncomfortable pinching stretch, to rough strokes, physical pain to help dull her emotional agony. She'd nearly forgotten, _tried_ to forget, nearly _made_ herself forget what it feels like to be with Fitz, what it feels like to make love.

He moves deliberately, deeply, stroking slowly inside of her for a long time. He's tender with her, lacing their fingers together, nuzzling her neck, murmuring how good she feels, how beautiful she is. He manages to always know exactly what she needs even when she doesn't know it herself, even when she fights him every step of the way.

The last thing she remembers is falling over the edge again as he grinds his hips down, listening to him groan against her neck as he comes inside her. She hears his voice, whispering her name over and over again…she feels connected, cherished, _loved_.

* * *

She's so warm.

She's warm and comfortable and, _oh_ , everything smells like him. His scent wraps around her, cradling her as she slowly wakes up.

Blinking her eyes open, it takes her a minute to remember where she is and why. Clearly it's morning, because it's light out now, but other than that she has no idea what time it is. Her mouth is dry and she feels hungover, even though she knows she didn't have any alcohol the night before. Liv rubs at her eyes, which still feel swollen from crying, and realizes she's wearing one of his navy sweatshirts but she's still naked from the waist down. He must have put the sweatshirt on her, knowing she'd be cold without it, because she doesn't remember putting it on. Realizing she isn't alone in bed, she rolls over onto her back.

Fitz is sitting next to her on top of the covers, fully clothed, including shoes, casually eating a giant club sandwich. He glances over at her but doesn't stop eating.

"What time is it?" she rasps, her voice a little hoarse.

"Noon," he replies without skipping a beat, taking another huge bite of his sandwich.

" _What?"_ she breathes, propping herself up on her elbow.

She stares around the room in shock, suddenly a little disoriented, disbelieving that she's slept for so long. Her stomach rumbles noisily and Fitz reaches over to the nightstand, retrieving a bowl of pasta smothered in sauce and offering it to her.

She makes a face, not feeling the least bit hungry despite her protesting stomach.

"Oh, Fitz I don't—"

"Eat the fucking pasta, Liv," he barks, thrusting the bowl into her hands.

She gives him an incredulous, annoyed look, reluctantly taking the bowl and sitting up slowly. He mutters something to himself, shaking his head and taking another bite of his sandwich, popping a fallen piece of tomato into his mouth. She tucks the blankets around her bare hips, sliding a wayward curl behind her ear and spearing one noodle with the fork. It melts in her mouth, the creamy, salty, subtle tomato flavor of the sauce dancing on her tongue. Suddenly she's _ravenous_ , and nothing has ever tasted so good. They eat in silence for a while, the occasional clink of her fork against the bowl the only sound in the room. He finishes his sandwich and she watches him stand up, placing the plate on the nightstand. Out of nowhere, he rounds on her.

"You're a piece of work, do you know that?"

"What do you—"

"Fuck you."

" _Excuse_ me?"

"Fuck you, Olivia."

* * *

 **TO BE CONTINUED in Part II...**


	10. Spontaneous Combustion

**A/N: Catharsis part II is coming, I swear! I needed to get this out of my head as a little palate cleanser between writing the newest chapter of "Madness" and Catharsis. This one-shot is inspired by a certain scene in 5x10, which would've actually been hot if Fitz had been present.**

* * *

Fitz is already waiting for her by the time she gets home, leaning against the wall next to her front door.

"You're late," he growls, as soon as she steps off the elevator.

"You knew I was working today," she states calmly, trying to hold back her smile.

Immediately, she can tell he's not really irritated with her. The opposite is true, they're _so_ happy to see each other after six weeks that they take the opportunity to tease a little bit.

"I don't like waiting around, Livvie," he sighs, slipping his hands into his pockets.

"I mean, you're free to go if my timing doesn't work for you," she offers, casually walking over to the elevator and pressing the 'down' button.

She stares at him, raising her eyebrows in challenge as the elevator starts to ascend. It's a game of who will break first, who will give in to the crackle of heat rising in the space between them. The faint _ding_ of the elevator cab rising underscores their staring contest, counting down. In the end, he gives in, because he's been away for six weeks, and the deep tangerine color of the dress she's wearing is making her rich cocoa skin look even more beautiful and delectable than usual, and he just _can't_.

There are times when something akin to spontaneous combustion happens between them, when everything gets so frantic and desperate and unbearably hot, that it feels like they might die if they don't give in immediately.

"Get over here," he rasps, taking a step toward her.

He barely gets the words out of his mouth before she's in his arms, legs wrapped securely around his hips, kissing him so hard their teeth almost click together. His hand slides down to squeeze her ass appreciatively, and she moans into his mouth. Arousal sweeps her away, robbing her of all thought except for how good he tastes, how delicious he smells, how hard he is between her thighs.

Fitz spins them around and pins her against the front door, kissing her hotly over and over again as her gloved fingers tangle in his hair. She's panting loudly when he starts to kiss his way over her neck, and the echo of her moan in the hallway suddenly makes her acutely aware of where they are.

"Fitz, neighbors, _neighbors_ ," she pants, trying to get his attention.

Eventually, a sharp tug to his hair gets him to put her down and let her turn around. Fishing her keys out of her bag she starts trying to unlock the door but her hands are shaking, and he's breathing over the sensitive shell of her ear, and, _oh_ , now he's biting her earlobe, and _damn it_ why are locks so hard? She lets him take her keys and falls back against him, sighing and leaning into the warm pressure of his mouth on her neck. Somehow, he's coherent enough to get the door open and they stumble into the semi-darkness of her living room.

Everything gets tossed carelessly onto the floor, bag, keys, shoes, coats, and they both smile wickedly as he picks her up by the waist and sets her on top of the piano. She winds her limbs around him again, crossing her ankles at his low back and opening her mouth to his tongue. He can't stop touching her, squeezing his hands around her hips, running his thumbs firmly over her nipples, back and forth until she starts to whimper and grind her hips into him. Gripping his jaw she angles his mouth open to sweep her tongue inside, sucking on his bottom lip as his hands make their way under her dress, pushing it up and out of the way.

Her thighs are silky soft under his palms, and he wraps his fingers under the scrap of lace she's calling underwear today, pulling it off. Before her brain has time to catch up, his thumbs are spreading her open for his tongue, and a flash of heat is running through her so quickly that she has to gasp for breath. She's soaked, warm and fragrant against his mouth as he tongues her slowly, and his cock throbs uncomfortably in his pants. He reaches down and briefly rubs a palm over himself, quickly returning to the task at hand because she's already moaning the way she does when she's _right there_ , the way she does when she could potentially come undone in the next ten seconds.

She is, _right there_ , because he has his tongue up against her clit the way he does when he wants to make her thighs quiver, the spot where she's the most sensitive. At the last second she yanks him away, pulling him right up to her mouth. He cooperates when she takes control of the kiss, happily sliding his tongue into her mouth so that she can taste herself, still running his hands over her thighs.

"Mmm, not yet?" he asks between kisses, sneaking his thumb in to tease her clit.

"Not, _oh_ , not yet," she breathes, batting his hand away, nipping sharply at his lip.

He lifts her off the piano and sets her down, her dress falling back over her hips. She takes him by the belt loops and starts walking backward, trying to make it to the bedroom. Raking her eyes over him hungrily as he peels his shirt off, she pulls at her gloves, slipping the leather from her fingers. He takes the gloves from her and as soon as she turns around he spanks her once with them, dropping them to the floor. She spins around with a surprised gasp, giggling as he stalks her back against the wall and pins her arms above her head, grinning against her mouth. Lacing their fingers together, she lets him hold her there, panting as he rolls his hips against her center.

They're playing, and she _loves_ to play with him.

He cups her jaw and she knows exactly what she's doing when she catches his thumb in her mouth, biting down and then closing her full lips in gentle suction, breathlessly watching his eyes dilate. Abruptly, she slides down the wall to kneel in front of him and he nearly comes in his pants from the sight alone. Propping his forearms against the wall and resting his head there, he squeezes his eyes closed as she works his belt open. One warm, moist exhale over the head of his cock through his boxers is as far as she gets before it's too much and he's pulling her back up. She bites her lip and antagonizes him, pressing the heel of her hand firmly up and down over his erection, knocking his hands out of the way when he tries to stop her, playfully backing out of reach when he tries to kiss her. He finally catches both of her wrists and clasps them behind her back, crowding her up against the wall.

"You," he starts, chuckling softly, "…are gonna get it."

"Oh, yeah?" she taunts, casually lifting her knee to rub against him.

"Liv," he warns, although his breath catches in pleasure and he's grinning against her mouth.

She slips away from him and runs toward the bedroom, inviting him to chase after her. He watches her go for a moment and then takes off after her, catching her easily. She shrieks when he grabs her, effortlessly throwing her over his shoulder and striding into the bedroom, playfully biting at her ass through the material of her dress.

"Fitz!" she laughs breathlessly, the rumble of his laughter vibrating through her hips before he gently tosses her onto the bed.

He crawls over her and immediately presses himself between her thighs, groaning into her neck.

"Oh, _god_ , you feel good."

Things get a little frantic after that, with him trying to find the zipper on her dress while simultaneously kicking his pants off, and her trying to keep him from destroying the dress in his efforts to get it off. Eventually, he lets her stand up and within seconds the dress pools at her feet, forgotten on the floor. She saves him the trouble and takes her bra off, tugging at his boxers, using the opportunity to scratch her nails over his thighs. She straddles his lap but they fight for dominance for a few seconds after that, rolling playfully on the bed, kissing endlessly.

He flips her over onto her hands and knees and something about that position feels _really_ good right now.

" _Yes_ , like this," she groans, flexing her hips back.

They both moan as he presses inside her, rocking in a few times until he can lean forward, covering her back with his chest. For the first time all night, he slows down, letting her adjust to him, pressing hot kisses across her back from one shoulder to the other. He watches goosebumps rise across her skin when he exhales over the nape of her neck, sucking a kiss there, using his teeth.

"You gonna let me make you come this time?" he breathes against her ear, starting to roll his hips forward.

"Are you gonna let _me_ make _you_ come this time?" she sasses, contracting her muscles around him, making him groan and still for a moment, pressing his forehead to her back.

Fitz growls and starts to thrust into her, lengthening his strokes as she moans and starts to rock her hips back to meet him.

He knows exactly how she likes it, when to be hard, when to be soft, how to angle his thrusts to give her more, or to give her less if she's getting too oversensitive. He knows when to press deep and stay there, when she wants him to rock against her and get her there slowly, and when she wants him to fuck into her harder, long, smooth strokes that make her whimper his name. She can't really see him but this position feels intimate regardless, he's pressed all along her back, propped up on one hand, using the other to trace circles over her nipples. He thrusts harder against her, palming her hips with both hands, and they're both close. She comes first, crying out and dropping down onto her elbows, pressing her forehead into the bed. He grabs for her hands as he follows her over the edge, grunting and thrusting through his orgasm, trying not to crush her.

They spend long minutes coming down, panting and sighing, rolling over onto their backs. He pulls her on top of him, brushing the hair our of her face and kissing her slowly.

"So, did you miss me?" he murmurs, wrapping his arms around her.

"No," she replies cutely, smirking at him when his eyes widen in mock irritation.

He rolls her under him and presses his mouth against her ear, tickling her mercilessly, laughter echoing through the apartment.


	11. Catharsis: II

**A/N: Here it is! Part II! If you haven't read the first part, I'd recommend reading that before this part, otherwise you might get confused. She's going to kill me for putting this in here, but I have to give major props to iwrite4olitz for helping me with Olivia's hair routine in this chapter. Lots of great sensory words and phrases came from her, that scene would not be nearly as detailed as it is without her help! Alright, enough from me, enjoy the second and final part of Catharsis!**

* * *

"You're a piece of work, do you know that?"

"What do you—"

"Fuck you."

" _Excuse_ me?"

"Fuck you, Olivia."

* * *

 _6 Hours Earlier…_

The first thing Fitz becomes aware of as he stirs from a deep, restful sleep is the warmth of someone else in bed with him. He doesn't have to open his eyes to know that it's Liv. He knows the curves and dips of her body as well as he knows his own name. He knows the soft press of her against his hips, the length of her legs where they're tucked over his knees, the cadence of her breath as she sleeps soundly in his arms. It only takes him seconds to remember how he'd come to have her in his bed, and he knows he should get up, but he keeps her cradled against him for long minutes, reluctant to break the spell. He doesn't even open his eyes, wanting to relish in the comfort of her body.

He's not sure why he'd always had the idea that she would need her space at night. For some reason he'd just never envisioned her wanting to be snuggled up with him while she slept. Much to his surprise he'd been wrong. She's always touching him in the night, no matter what position they're sleeping in. He doesn't always like to sleep on his side, but she'd confessed to him once that spooning is her favorite, that she loves to feel him pressed against her back. Last night, after he'd helped her into one of his sweatshirts in an effort to stop her from trembling so much, she'd immediately pulled his arms around her and nestled back against him.

" _Don't let me go…"_

As far as he can tell they haven't moved much, and he can tell by her breathing that she's deeply asleep. Eventually he forces his eyes open and glances at the clock. It's five am and he has a cabinet meeting in an hour, meaning he has thirty minutes to shower and pull himself together. He needs to clear his head, he needs to shake off the previous night if he has any hope of focusing, if he has any hope of actually being the President today.

Carefully, he extricates himself from her sleeping form, tucking the blankets around her. He's not so worried about waking her for her own sake, although he's positive she's overdue for some decent sleep, it's more that he can't deal with her right now, not when he has a full day of work ahead.

In the shower, he cranks the water up hot, scrubbing over his face.

" _Everything hurts…"_

He's been doing so much better. He's been focused on his presidency, focused on his legacy, making nice with the Senate and with his staff. Hell, he'd even gone on a date last week. Well, sort of.

Fitz grabs for the bar of soap, sweeping it over himself, trying to wash her off of him, trying to get her scent out of his nose. It isn't working though, she's haunting him again. He can't stop picturing her eyes, broken and overflowing with tears, begging and pleading with him.

" _I need you to make it stop…"_

He can still feel her in his arms, shaking with sobs, and the ache makes him pull at his own hair as he rinses the suds away. His cock twitches when images of her body flash in his mind, miles of beautiful brown skin, memories of the way she tastes, the way she feels around him, the sound of her soft, satisfied moans in his ear.

" _Fitz, please, right there, right there..."_

His eyes fly open and he wills the arousal away, scrambling to turn down the water temperature. The shower turns to ice and he gasps, letting the frigid spray shock him out of it. It knocks the breath from his body and he welcomes the uncomfortable sensation, finishing up his shower quickly.

Despite his best effort he's distracted during the cabinet meeting. No one seems to notice, but he can't keep his head in the room. He's still wrapped up in her, his thoughts and feelings are still tumbling around in a dizzying mess of anger, sadness, and worry. The anger is pervasive, he's so angry with her for showing up and ruining all of the progress he's made, but he can't help the part of his heart that will always be soft where she's concerned. She's clearly going through something and despite her desperation, the fact that she'd come to him at _all_ for support is a big step. It's a step that he tries not to dwell on because, in his mind, it's temporary. Things are always temporary with her.

And with that thought he cycles back into anger. He calls down to the kitchen and requests a bowl of her favorite pasta along with his usual lunch order. Having felt her hips beneath his hands last night, he knows she hasn't been eating, and he's at least able to put his anger aside enough to ensure she's eaten something before she leaves. He wishes that he weren't such a bleeding heart, but he can't help it.

As predicted, she's still asleep when he enters the residence with their food. She's burrowed beneath the covers of his bed, a tangle of dark hair just visible above the comforter. And then she's awake, and she's arguing with him over the pasta and she's just _unbelievable_.

 _So fucking stubborn…_

Before he can stop himself he's raising his voice.

* * *

"Fuck you, Olivia."

She's momentarily stunned into silence by his anger.

"I don't—"

"You knew. You _knew_ what coming here like that would do to me. You _knew_ I wouldn't be able to turn you away, and you took advantage of it. What the hell was that last night, Liv?"

"I—I don't know—"

"How can you not know? What happened?"

She wishes more than anything that she had the words to explain her breakdown, to help him understand. All she can do is look at him helplessly because _she_ doesn't even understand yet.

"I—it wasn't any one thing, I just, I'm sorry that I—"

"You're not sorry, don't pretend that you are. Last night was just one more example of you having zero regard for my feelings."

She realizes she's been staring at him incredulously and closes her mouth, watching him pace back and forth like a caged tiger. He's given her emotional whiplash with his change in attitude and she's trying to catch up.

"Okay, clearly you're upset—"

"Of course I am! The fact that you don't see anything wrong with what you did is just—"

"I wasn't thinking clearly, alright?" she admits softly, exasperated and annoyed that he's being so cruel.

"No! It's not alright! The fact that you used me last night is not alright. You had no right. You had no right to barge in here and drop a pile of issues in my lap—"

"You didn't have to let me in!" she snaps, eyes flashing.

He stops pacing then, hands on his hips. Nodding slowly, he fixes his pained, angry gaze on her.

"Right. Secret Service comes in to my bedroom to get me, and tells me they've never seen you so distraught, that you look like you've been mugged, that you're crying and asking for me, and I'm supposed to ignore them. _That's_ the kind of guy I am."

"I don't know _who_ you are anymore," she mumbles, setting her bowl aside and re-adjusting the blankets.

"I'm a mess. That's who I am," he says brokenly, "I'm a mess because you've wrecked me, you've made me this way. I can't get you out of my system because you keep doing this Olivia, and now you're blaming _me_ —"

"I'm not blaming you! I'm just saying, there were two of us in this bed last night and you made a decision, just like—"

"Really? You know there are two of us? That's news to me, you sure don't act like you know that."

" _Fitz_."

Things are getting nasty, and despite his anger he really doesn't want that, and he can tell that she doesn't either.

"I need you to figure out what it is that you want. What do you want, Liv? What is it? What do you want from me? Do you want to be with me? Are you using me for sex, do you want a relationship, what do you want? I'm begging you, figure out what the hell it is that you want, because I can't take this, I can't do this again."

"This won't happen again, I can assure you," she hisses, trying to put up an angry front to protect herself.

"I wish I could believe you."

His eyes are so sad, so dark and lifeless. They stare at each other until Liv breaks away and looks down, massaging her temples where a splitting headache is making her nauseous.

"I'll be gone by the time you get back toni—"

"You know what? Go. Or stay. I need to go back to work and I honestly don't care what you do," Fitz interrupts, "But know that the next message you send, the next move you make, is going to be your last because I'm done. Consider this _me_ leaving _you_. If you want me, if you decide that you want us, you're going to have to fight for it this time."

* * *

Olivia doesn't think she has any tears left, but evidently she's wrong because as soon as he leaves, her eyes well up and she's crying again. She buries her face in a pillow and cries, rocking herself back and forth in a desperate attempt for comfort.

 _What have I done?_

After a few minutes she forces herself to calm down, grabbing a few tissues from the nightstand. Her head is pounding and she flops back against the pillows, pulling the blankets over her head. Exhausted from crying and fighting with Fitz, she throws herself a massive pity party for the next hour. She lies in bed and lets herself be petty and childish. She blames him, she curses him, she contemplates irrational things like storming down to Oval to yell back, or burning all of his clothes. How dare he lecture her and yell at her like that, how _dare_ he!

And then…she admits that he had every right.

It _was_ a low blow, showing up to the White House in her state, and if she'd been completely in control of her actions she never would have done it. The thing is, she's never felt as out of control as she did last night. She was in survival mode, and the only thing that made sense, the only thing that brought her any sense of relief was _him_.

She suspends her train of thought for the time being, deciding she ought to stop being so pathetic and get out of bed.

" _Go. Or stay."_

His words echo in her mind and she realizes she has a decision to make. She decides to take it one step at a time, starting with a shower.

She's still naked from the waist down and her clothes from the previous night are nowhere to be found, most likely already swept up by the staff into the laundry cycle. She'll have to make due. Crossing over to his dresser, she quickly finds a pair of his clean flannel pajama pants and pulls them on, tugging at the strings until they're as tight as she can get them. They're still loose around her hips, and the bottoms drag on the floor as she exits the bedroom and moves down the hallway into the master bath. Pushing the door open, she walks in on Martha, one of the housekeepers.

"Ms. Pope?" she asks, eyebrows raised, her bottle of Windex paused in mid-air.

"Hi, Martha," Liv replies, freezing in the doorway, smoothing her hair, crossing her arms self-consciously.

The two of them stare at one another awkwardly for a few seconds, and then try to speak at the same time.

"Let me just—"

"I'm sorry, I'll—"

They laugh, and Martha immediately starts to collect her cleaning supplies.

"No, no, I don't want to interrupt you, Martha, I can wait until you're finished."

"Don't worry about it, dear, I'm all done in here. Just finishing up with the mirrors."

On her way out, the older woman hesitates, turning back to Olivia as if she has something to say. Liv tips her head to the side slightly, curious.

"I have a few things of yours, if you'd like them," Martha says tentatively, "From before, when you were here?"

"Oh," Liv replies softly, not aware that she'd left anything behind, "Sure, I'll take them."

Martha smiles brightly.

"Wait right here."

She disappears for a few minutes and comes back with a basket of toiletries and a tiny pile of folded clothing; three pairs of La Perla underwear and a pair of silk, off-white lounge pants.

"These were in the laundry and it seemed a shame to get rid of them, such pretty things," she explains, handing Olivia the clothing.

"I must have left these in the shower, thank you for saving them," Liv muses, looking through the basket of hair products and lotions.

"I wasn't sure if you would come back for them, they looked expensive. I pulled them out of the shower as soon as—well, as soon as we were _notified_. I didn't think he'd want to see them," Martha says, her face coloring in sudden embarrassment.

Olivia's eyes soften and she moves to reassure her.

"Thank you, Martha. I'm sure he appreciated that."

Martha smiles, relieved that it seems she's done the right thing.

"I'll leave you be, Ms. Pope. Take care now," she says, closing the door behind her.

Liv sighs, pulling products out of the basket and lining them up on the counter. She's been avoiding the mirror, and when she looks up at herself she looks just as wrecked as she'd suspected. Her makeup is long gone, completely washed away, and her eyes are puffy and bloodshot. Licking over her dry lips, she raises her hands into her ruined hair. The curls she'd carefully heat-styled yesterday morning are tangled, flat in some places and frizzy in others. The smooth, flat-ironed texture is coming undone and she can see the hair close to her roots starting to rebel, a bit of natural curl peeking through.

She weighs her options. Surely her purse is around here somewhere, where she always carries elastics, she could gather it all back into a bun until she gets home, or…Liv eyes the products on the counter. It's wash day anyway, and she has everything she needs, she could just stay and wash it here. Fitz likely won't be back for hours, so she has plenty of time to leave, if she decides that she wants to.

Hours. She has _hours_ to herself, hours in peace to do whatever she wants. Taking a little time to pamper herself sounds heavenly.

She transfers all of her hair day supplies into the shower and turns on the water, waiting for the large stall to steam up before she strips and steps inside. The rain shower is her favorite aspect of the residence's master bath, and her whole body sags in relief as she walks under the cloud of hot water. It's a soothing cascade, gentle on her scalp and fragile strands as she wets her hair, pouring out a quarter-sized amount of shampoo. Using the pads of her fingers, she works the light, whipped product into the spirals at the top of her head, feeling it lather a little bit.

 _What the hell happened last night?_

The question is still there, nagging at her. It's more a question of _why_ than _what_. It had felt like some version of a panic attack, like the worst one she's ever had. It scares her that she can't immediately remember the events leading up to her arrival at the White House, and she tries to retrace her steps as she rinses her hair.

The strands feel silky and nourished, although not nearly moisturized enough yet. Her headache is still there and she gently massages conditioner into her scalp, trying to work through the tension. She leans down to pour a bit more into her palm, and the bottle slips from her hands, dropping to the floor of the shower.

" _Don't act like you don't want it…"_

The memory suddenly flashes in front of her, taking her breath away.

" _I know how you like it…"_

She has to step over to the wall of the shower and lean against it as the memories coming flooding back.

 _Jake, I fought with Jake_

He'd been drunk, shown up at her apartment, and tried to force himself on her. She'd already been having second thoughts about sleeping with him again and told him so, tried to make it clear it wasn't happening, but he was belligerent. They'd struggled in her living room as she tried to get him off of her, bumping into things and finally knocking a vase from her shelf. The crash of shattering porcelain seemed to snap him out of it and he'd left, but the damage had already been done.

 _God, what have I been doing?_

Her hands shake as she raises them back into her hair. She starts to detangle, letting the familiar motion soothe her nerves. The curls slip apart easily when the water mixes with her conditioner, tickling her shoulders. She takes her time, breathing slowly and deeply, making sure every spiral is free and loose.

She's had men try to force themselves on her more times than she cares to remember, and why is that? Where do they get off? But even though it's happened more than once, it's never been like that, never to the point that she'd felt terrified. Even when Fitz had done it, she hadn't been scared of him. The memory makes her uncomfortable, but she's absolutely certain that had she been genuinely scared Fitz would have stopped. It doesn't excuse him, he was a jerk that night and she's actually thankful that Mellie appeared when she had, but she knows he would have stopped. Fitz would never hurt her like that. But Jake…

" _Stop! Don't, Jake, no…"_

She'd said all the words, every word she could think of to make him stop and he wouldn't. He'd pulled at her clothes, groped her breasts, tried to get his fingers inside of her, until that vase shattered. It woke him up to the tears on her face, the fear in her eyes, and he'd left without a word, leaving her to collapse on her living room floor. She feels violated all over again when she thinks about it, and she can't imagine ever speaking to him again.

The encounter with Jake hadn't been the only reason for her breakdown, the build up had come from other places, but it was the catalyst.

Finished rinsing the conditioner from her hair, Liv tips her face up into the water and tries to shake off the feeling. She grabs her leave-in, squeezing some out and starting to work it into her curls. Her hands are calm and gentle, making sure each strand is evenly coated in the subtly-scented cream. She gives special attention to the hair at the back of her head where the curls are tighter, patiently working the product in until the coarse, thirsty strands feel soft and silky.

Satisfied with her work, she rinses her hands and pours a generous amount of her favorite almond-scented shower oil into her palm. It works into a lather and she smoothes it over her body, letting it nourish her skin, finishing up her shower.

She feels slightly more human as she steps out and wraps herself in a fluffy towel, delicately patting her hair with another towel. Grabbing the last few products from the basket, she rubs her favorite vanilla body butter into her skin and seals the moisture into her hair with aloe vera, intending to let it air dry. She chooses a comfortable pair of underwear, a soft, lace thong with a wide band around the hips, and the lounge pants.

Fitz's sweatshirt goes back on, because it smells like him and she's not ashamed to admit she still needs the comfort.

* * *

The soft, botanical scent of her shampoo wafts over him when he opens the bedroom door that evening. The smell of her freshly washed hair is so comforting, so familiar, that he almost forgets for a moment that things aren't normal. If things were normal, he'd be able to walk up behind her where she's sitting on the couch, and bury his face in her neck. He'd be able to rest his lips there, inhaling vanilla, and sweet summer air, and spring blossoms. He'd be able to tug her down onto the couch and ask her about her day between warm, wet kisses, until he made her lose her words, and her breath.

Things aren't normal.

Things aren't normal, but she's here, _she's still here_.

Olivia uncurls and sits up on the sofa when she hears him come in, looking at him hesitantly. Her eyes are sad, but they're open and honest.

"Can we talk?" she asks softly.

Nodding, he pulls his jacket and tie off, moving to sit at the opposite end of the couch.

She's relieved to see that he isn't combative anymore, that the tension in his body is gone. Now he just looks tired. They sit in silence, neither of them knowing where to start.

"I miss you," she breathes, and she hadn't meant to start out with something so deliberate, but the words just come out.

Her eyes close in regret and she looks away from him, waiting for him to reject her.

"I miss you, too."

When she turns back to look at him his expression is vulnerable, careful.

"Really?" she whispers.

"Sometimes I wish I didn't, but I do," he sighs, running his hands through his hair.

There's another pause while they eye each other carefully, treading delicately through all of the hurt.

"Last night…"

"Liv, what _happened_? You really scared me, I've never seen you like that before."

"Jake happened," she confesses.

"What does that mean?" he asks, eyes narrowed.

"He showed up at my apartment, he'd clearly had a lot to drink, and he—he."

The words get stuck in her throat. She hadn't really expected to have trouble saying it out loud, but she can't get the words out.

"Liv," he says cautiously, "He what?"

"I said no," she says softly, and Fitz's stomach turns over, "I said no, and he grabbed me anyway."

He abruptly gets up and sits down on the coffee table right in front of her, unconsciously taking her shaking hands between his warm palms.

"He didn't rape me," she rushes to say, spitting out that word before she can think too hard, "But he tried."

" _Olivia_ ," he hisses, eyes fiery with anger that isn't directed toward her.

"I'm fine."

"You're _not_ fine. Liv, you need to let me handle him, you need to report—"

"And say what? There's nothing to say. He put his hands on me, we struggled, we messed up my apartment a little bit, but that's it. I have nothing to show for it, I'm not even bruised. We have a previous sexual history, and we were even friends at one point. Don't act like you don't know how this would play out if I tried to take legal action."

He shakes his head, and he's still seething, still not convinced.

"Liv…"

"Listen, I told you because you deserve the truth. You deserve to hear the truth from me, from here on out. And the truth is, last night was a long time coming. It's all been piling up, all of these _things_ that I don't know how to process, and then Jake doing what he did—I couldn't take it anymore. I didn't know what to do, I didn't know where to go, I just wanted the one thing, the one person, that always makes sense, and that's you. Us."

He lets her reach up and lay her palm against his cheek, trying to ignore the way it makes warmth spread through his chest. Without knowing where this conversation is going, he can't let himself hope, not yet.

"Thank you for being there, for being you," she whispers sincerely.

"I'm glad you came to me. I was angry before, but, I'm glad. That's all I want, Liv, I just want you to come to me, to trust me. I want you to let me be strong for you sometimes."

"I'm…really bad at that," she says, laughing humorlessly, pulling the sleeves of his sweatshirt over her hands.

"I know, and I—I don't know how to be in a relationship with someone who won't talk to me," he shrugs helplessly.

"I got that, when you broke up with me—"

"When I broke up with you? You were the one who said we had no future," he argues, suddenly.

She stares at him for a second, trying to figure out why he's arguing over semantics.

"You were the one who said 'we tried'," she counters, shifting the blame back to him, "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying I was following your lead, _you_ were the one that ended it. I wasn't—I didn't want to lose you, okay? I've never wanted to lose you, I've always been willing to do the work, but you run! You never even give us a chance," he says, moving to sit beside her on the couch.

He tips her chin up so that he can see her eyes.

"What do you want, Liv?" he asks her simply, reiterating his question from earlier in the day.

She takes a deep breath, looking him in the eyes.

"You," she breathes, "I want to be with you. But, things would have to be different—"

"I know."

"The way we tried to be together—I can't be the First Lady, I need my freedom—"

"I agree."

"I need to be Olivia Pope—"

"I know you do."

"And we have a lot to work on, I know that we do—"

"I know that, too."

"Why do you keep agreeing with me, don't you have anything else to say?"

He smiles then, for the first time all day.

"Do you realize how many times you just told me what you want, and what you need? That's all _I_ need from you, that's all I've ever needed. I need you to tell me what's going on up here," he says, tapping her temple affectionately, "Now, what do you need from me? This has to go both ways."

This is unfamiliar territory, communicating so candidly with him, and it takes her a second to organize her thoughts.

"I need…I need you to hold me accountable. If I'm not talking to you, don't let me get away it. I need you to help me, until I get better at this. And, when I tell you something, I need you to listen."

That request is a revelation for him, that she doesn't always feel like she's being heard.

"Even if you don't like what I'm saying, I need you to listen anyway, and try to understand. Okay?"

"Okay," he murmurs.

They stare at each other, not quite knowing what the next step is. It feels like they've just made some kind of pact, like they're on their way back to one another, but it's all happened so quickly.

"So…did we just—are we—" she stutters, trying not to let the relief overwhelm her completely.

"I think so," he says, smiling softly.

"What happens now?" she asks tentatively.

"I don't know," he admits, chuckling a little bit.

He wants to touch her and his attention goes to her hair. It's no secret between them that he loves her natural hair, that he loves to see her relaxed and casual. Knowing he already has permission, he gently fingers one curl, delighting in its pillowed softness. He also knows she won't let him touch it for long, so he buries his fingers in the thick, lush curls while he can. She's so beautiful to him this way.

Although she's enjoying his nearness, his appreciation of her curls, they're smooth and soft, and she'd like to keep them that way.

"Leave it be," she scolds softly after a moment, gently pulling his fingers from her hair, "If you mess up all my hard work I might have to hurt you."

He switches their grip before she can let go of his hand, bringing both of her hands to rest at the back of his neck. He just needs to feel her skin on his somehow, craving her touch.

"Can't help it, you know I love your hair like this," he rasps, hands sliding over her forearms.

Her eyelids droop slightly at the tone of his voice. She doesn't even think he's done it on purpose, but heat sparks between them immediately. Their eyes meet and instantly they're fighting it, the magnetic drift that always appears when they're close to each other. Eyes flick to lips and back again, trying, trying, _trying_ not to let it overwhelm them, knowing they really shouldn't.

"We shouldn't," she murmurs.

"No, we shouldn't," he agrees, hands sliding onto her thighs, thumbs stroking idly back and forth.

She swallows, giving in to the pull and letting her forehead rest against his. They're both breathing shallowly, just from proximity, from trying to hold themselves back.

"I want to," she whispers, brow furrowed, fingers scratching restlessly through the hair at his nape.

"Me too," he breathes, guiding her into his lap.

Their breath is frantic as she climbs over him, straddling his lap and pressing close. As soon as she's settled, as soon as he's holding her and they've made the decision, a wave of calm washes over them. Everything gets quiet, the room disappears, and they completely fall into each other. He's still, resting his hands on her hips and letting her nuzzle her nose against his. She takes her time, sliding their lips together, barely a whisper of a kiss, holding their eye contact as they breath the same air. Fitz lets himself get lost in her eyes.

They probably _shouldn't_ be doing this right now, they have so much to talk about. But they need to get back on the same page, they need to start healing, and this might not be such a terrible place to start. They're good at this, it's safe, it's _home_. As much as it is about sex, it also isn't. It's about knowing each other, about being in sync. Even though the physical aspect is indescribably blissful, it's the emotional connection they both need so badly.

They peel their clothes off and make love right there on the sofa, too caught up in the moment to move over to the bed. His head falls back against the couch and she braces her hands there, leaning over him as her hips roll in his lap.

"Feels so good, Livvie, don't stop," he moans against her mouth.

She can't stop kissing him, languidly stroking her tongue over his, panting into his mouth. His hands slide down to her ass and squeeze gently as he takes control and starts to thrust his hips up, his feet resting on the floor providing the perfect leverage. She buries her face in his neck, whimpering and sighing, moaning when he thrusts harder, pushing them closer to completion.

"Look at me," he whispers, feeling her start to spasm around him.

Her hands slide up to cradle his face, and she rests her forehead against his as he makes her come, following her over the edge with a few more thrusts. They moan and gasp, coming together, rocking their hips against each other for long minutes. Eventually he slips out of her but they don't move from the couch, he pulls a blanket over them and keeps her in his lap, groaning in pleasure as she teases his mouth with endless kisses.

"This feels right, doesn't it?" she asks him later, running her tongue over his ear, well on her way to getting him hard again.

"It does. It always does," he murmurs.

She pulls back to look at him and they share a soft, meaningful gaze that has nothing to do with sex, and everything to do with love.

His hands creep up the back of her neck, inching into her hair.

"Fitz," she says quietly, dipping her chin, "If you mess up my hair, I'm going to kill yo—Fitz!"

She yelps as he bursts into laughter, flipping her down onto her back.

* * *

 **A/N: As always, thank you for reading. Comments are always appreciated!**


	12. The Firsts: I

**A/N: Hello there! This is a new series I'm starting called "The Firsts". They all take place in the baby Micah universe, which I intro'd in the one-shot Superpowers. This universe is canon up until 5x05, everything in 5x06 and beyond NEVER happened (I explain more about it in Superpowers, but you don't necessarily have to read that one to understand this one). Micah's age will jump around, but we're starting generally with newborn stuff, because they're my fav :-) These will all be pretty fluffy, but I think they're also very tender and real. I hope you guys like!**

* * *

 ** _Love At First Sight_**

When they'd put Micah on her chest for the first time she couldn't stop crying.

It's all a bit of a blur, and later she only remembers bits and pieces, but she remembers thinking that he'd felt so _small_ in her arms. He'd felt so big inside her belly, but when he's finally in her arms he's _tiny_. She remembers trying to keep him covered up, trying to get him warm under the blanket they'd given her because he'd looked so little and cold. She remembers Fitz crying too, pressing kisses to her temple, murmuring how proud he was of her, how amazing she'd been. She remembers the sound of Micah crying and crying as they'd quickly weighed him, cleaned him up, measured his head, and then how quickly he'd stopped crying when he was back on her chest, snuggled up warm and safe. She remembers saying " _hi_ " to him over and over through her tears, overwhelmed with love for him already and not sure what else to say.

He's still on her now, hours later, and their recovery suite is dark and quiet. They've had a fairly successful first attempt at breastfeeding and now they're skin to skin, with him cuddled upright against her bare chest in just his diaper. He's sleeping soundly, his little legs tucked up underneath his body as she reclines in bed, cradling him against her, the blankets pulled up to cover them. Fitz is asleep in the recliner in the corner, and she supposes she should be trying to get some rest too, but she can't stop looking at Micah.

She's head over heels in love with him, and it takes her breath away. He's just perfect, with his soft skin, his adorable pouty lips, his deliciously chunky cheeks, his intoxicating baby smell. She can't get enough of him, she can't stop pressing gentle kisses to his head, listening to the soft squeaks and whimpers he's making in his sleep, brushing her index finger over the tiny hand that's laying on her chest. Before she knows it emotion is overwhelming her again, a few silent tears streaming down her face.

"Hey," Fitz says softly, getting her attention.

She hadn't even noticed that he'd woken up, she's so wrapped up in Micah.

"How's he doing?"

"He's perfect," she whispers, clearing her throat, wiping the moisture from her cheeks.

He comes over to sit in the chair next to her bed, peering at the baby, smiling affectionately.

"You want me to take him for a little while, so you can get some sleep?"

She shakes her head, returning his smile.

"You don't mind if I keep him, do you?"

Fitz hasn't gotten to hold him very much yet, but he doesn't seem to mind, seeming to understand that it almost hurts her to be separated from this tiny person right now.

"I wouldn't dream of moving him, Livvie, he looks like he could sleep there forever."

"Come lay with us," she requests softly, wincing slightly as she scoots over so he can share the narrow bed with her.

He makes himself comfortable, wrapping an arm around her, and she lays back against his shoulder, sighing in contentment. They're quiet for a little while, enamored with their son, who's barely ten hours old.

"How do you feel?" he asks quietly, and it's such a loaded question but he's dying to know what's going on in her head.

She takes a deep breath and shakes her head slowly, not able to answer right away.

"I'm not sure what I expected," she breathes, "But I…I didn't expect to feel _this much_. I can't—it's—"

"I know," he finishes for her, nose pressing into her hair, "It's a lot."

"He's so beautiful, isn't he?"

"Most beautiful baby I've ever seen. Tied with Karen, Gerry, and Teddy, of course."

"Of _course_."

Micah stirs a little bit as they chat, blinking his eyes open a few times and moving his head.

"Hey buddy," Fitz says softly, "Are you gonna let us see those eyes?"

"Do you think they'll be blue?" she wonders, adjusting him a bit so they can see his face better.

Fitz looks skeptical. "I don't know, they're that newborn blue right now but they're awfully dark."

"I think I should try to feed him."

"Really? How do you know?"

"I don't, but the nurse told me if he looks awake and it's been almost two hours he's probably getting hungry, and that it's better to try before he starts fussing. Can you hand me that pillow?"

He reaches over to grab the C-shaped nursing pillow and helps her get situated, rearranging the blankets so that her other breast is covered, should anyone walk in unannounced. Sure enough, as she positions Micah near her chest he starts to complain a little bit, turning his head, opening his mouth, instinctively looking for milk.

"Do you want me to move?"

"No, I want you right where you are. And you're good back support," she teases, cuddling further into his side, "Okay, peanut, you ready?"

Fitz watches as she settles into nursing Micah with minimal difficulty, amazed that it's only her second time doing it.

"You're incredible," he murmurs, kissing her temple, "You're a natural."

She doesn't say anything to that, just tips her head to rest against his chest.

"When he's done eating you should take him for a little while."

"Really?"

"Sure. Well, maybe…"

* * *

 ** _The First Day Home_**

The day they bring Micah home from the hospital is the most perfect, joyful, anxiety-filled day of her life. It's so _strange_ , bringing this little person into their house, this little person that they created and are now responsible for.

Fitz sets Micah down in the living room and immediately heads to the freezer, stashing away the lasagna the hospital has kindly sent home with them. He'll never forget it, the moment he comes back out of the kitchen and finds her in the living room, standing in front of Micah's car seat, staring down at the baby.

She looks up at him with a ' _what now?_ ' expression on her face, so adorably bewildered that he has to clamp down on the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

Technically, he's done this before. He knows exactly what she's feeling, although he supposes he does and doesn't at the same time. He doesn't have a truckload of hormones racing through his system, or sensitive body parts that are healing, but he does know what it's like to be a new parent.

She's looking down at Micah again, a look that's a mixture of the purest love he's ever seen, and fear, as if the baby might burst into flames at any moment.

He walks over to stand next to her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side, staring down at his youngest son. He's a great mix of the both of them, with the most gorgeous café au lait skin and big, expressive eyes. He's going to have Olivia's curls when his hair grows out, and her nose, but he has Fitz's chin, and Fitz's long fingers.

"So…what do we do now?" she asks quietly, only half-joking.

"Well," Fitz sighs, "We try and keep him alive."

She elbows him in the side, looking up to find him smiling at her warmly.

"Don't make fun of me," she giggles, tipping her head against his shoulder, letting him press a kiss into her hair.

"I was serious, actually, that's all we need to do at this point," he laughs, "It's…it feels a little weird, right?"

"Definitely weird. I carried him around all that time and now he's right there, in our house, out in the world. I feel like I'm dreaming. It's probably not that weird for you, is it? You've brought babies home before."

"Well, the novelty doesn't exactly wear off, it's just as exciting. And I've never brought a baby home with _you_ before, so that part is definitely new. And wonderful," he murmurs, finding her lips and capturing them in a soft kiss.

Her warm brown eyes unexpectedly fill with tears, a tide of emotion rising inside her before she can stop it. He smiles sympathetically as she blinks the tears back, letting him wipe away the few that manage to escape over her cheeks.

"Happy tears," she sighs, leaning in to his hug, laying her head against his chest.

Liv closes her eyes for a few seconds, breathing him in, swaying in his arms.

"You hungry?" he asks, realizing he'd better get the food situation under control before he gets too comfortable in the house.

He watches as she pulls away from his chest and ponders the question, likely taking stock of the various sensations she's experiencing, trying to figure out if any of them are hunger-related.

"Yes," she answers, looking almost surprised, "I am, actually."

"Okay," he says, stifling a laugh again, "Let's figure out some lunch."

" _You_ figure out some lunch," she corrects, bending down to the car seat, "I'll be on the couch, snuggling my baby."

"Oh, so he's _your_ baby?" Fitz teases, as she carefully lifts Micah from the seat and cradles him against her chest, murmuring to him softly.

"Relax, Daddy, I meant _our_ baby."

 _Our_ _baby_. That phrase makes his heart slam into his chest and takes his breath away. He still can't believe it, even as the words come out of her mouth.

* * *

 ** _The First Visitor_**

Olivia uncurls from the couch, Micah cradled in one arm, and hugs her best friend. Abby pulls away and looks down at Micah with wide, almost awestruck eyes.

"Liv, he's gorgeous."

"He's pretty incredible," she agrees softly, tucking the blankets under his chin, starting to rearrange her hold on the tightly swaddled newborn, "Here, you want to hold him?"

"Uh, _yeah_."

They move over to the couch and Abby sits down first, letting Liv put the baby in her arms.

"Hi Micah," she says softly, "How's the world so far little buddy? I'm your Aunt Abby, it's nice to finally meet you."

Liv's not sure why watching Abby meet her son makes her cry, although it seems like anything is likely to make her cry these days. Watching someone so important to her meet him is unexpectedly moving, second only to seeing Fitz hold him for the first time. She blinks the tears away and leans back into the cushions, propping her head against her hand and smiling as she watches Abby gaze at his little face.

"Wow," Abby breathes, "Liv…"

"I know."

"You have a _baby_."

"I _know_."

"Does it feel crazy?"

"A little," she says softly, eyes landing on Micah, "Mostly it just feels like…it feels like I've known him all along. When I saw him I just thought, 'oh, of course, that's him'. It's hard to explain."

"I think I get what you mean," Abby smiles, "I haven't experienced it, obviously, but it makes sense. He's so tiny, I've never held a baby this tiny before."

"Neither had I until six days ago," Liv admits, yawning widely.

"So…how are you feeling? Are your lady bits changed forever?"

"Abby!" she laughs.

"What? It's a valid question, now that I've seen the size of this guy's head in person, and I already know how big vaginas are, the two just don't really—"

"Okay! You don't have to remind me, memories are fresh here, Abs."

"Seriously though, you really didn't have any pain meds? Nothing?"

"No, I didn't," she recalls, "Honestly, it was hard, _really_ hard, but weirdly satisfying? I don't know, I just figured, I'm only gonna do this once, I may as well get the full experience. I couldn't have done it that way without Fitz though, he was amazing."

Micah starts to squeak a little bit in Abby's arms, fussing and squirming inside his swaddle.

"He's probably getting hungry," Liv explains, glancing at the clock, "He's eating every two or three hours right now."

"Oh, I'll get out of your hair so you can feed him," Abby says, handing the baby back to her.

"No, stay," she whines, "You just got here and I haven't seen you in forever. Nothing but boys around here now, I need some girl time."

"Are you sure?"

"I mean, I don't care if you don't. You've put me in the shower drunk before, my boobs are nothing you haven't seen already."

"True," Abby laughs.

"Just give me a couple minutes to help him latch. We're still learning, right pumpkin?" she coos softly, laying Micah down on the couch cushion in front of her, starting to unwrap him.

"I'll make tea," Abby announces, "Do you want some tea?"

"Tea sounds great," she smiles, pushing her thin wrap sweater out of the way and unclipping one side of her nursing top.

Abby heads into the kitchen and Liv grabs a pillow, getting the baby settled and ready to nurse.

"Alright, little mister, work with me here," she murmurs, tickling his cheek until his tiny mouth opens wide.

It takes a couple tries, but by the time Abby comes back with their tea Micah is securely latched, suckling enthusiastically.

"Look at you go, mama," Abby comments, cheering her on as she settles back onto the couch opposite them, "Does it hurt?"

Right on cue, Liv winces.

"For the first few minutes it does, but if we're doing it right it goes away," she explains, adjusting her sweater, "We're getting the hang of it. It's just so good for him, if I can do it, I want to."

"I think you _are_ doing it," Abby says warmly, "You're already doing great."

"Thanks," she smiles, touched by the compliment, "Enough baby chat though, how's work? Tell me everything."

"Well first of all, I don't know where you found that Marcus guy but he's incredible…"

* * *

 ** _The First Sip_**

They're winding down for the evening, hanging out in their warm, dimly lit bedroom when Fitz disappears for a few minutes. He comes back carrying the two previously discussed glasses of wine, and her eyes light up.

"Here we go," he says, kneeling on the bed to hand her a glass, "Nine months and two weeks, let's get you off the wagon."

"I don't think that's a very good metaphor, but I'm too excited to care right now," she giggles, sitting up and crossing her legs, softly clinking her glass against his.

She takes a sip, holding the rich, velvety liquid on her tongue for a moment.

"Oh my god," she whispers, her face scrunching up in ecstasy.

Lying down and propping his head up he laughs at her reaction, because whenever she has that much joy on her face he can't help but be swept up in it.

"Mmm," she hums enthusiastically, quickly tasting the wine again, "What is this? Is this—"

"1982 Chateau Margaux," he confirms, taking a sip himself.

"Oh, you're my favorite," she coos, swirling the liquid and holding it up to the light of the table lamp.

"Me or the wine?" Fitz laughs, watching her stick her nose into the glass.

"Right now it's a toss up," she breathes.

When she turns to look at him his eyes are narrowed in mock annoyance, and laughter bubbles out of her. She cups his face and connects their lips in a series of kisses.

" _You_ ," she soothes between kisses, "It's always you, you're always my favorite."

Micah chirps from where he's cradled on the soft, newborn lounge pillow between them, pursing his lips in his sleep.

"Someone's jealous," Fitz smiles.

"You're my favorite too, sweet boy," she says, leaning down to kiss Micah's plump cheek, "Is it weird that I'm drinking in front of him?"

"Liv, he's two weeks old, he has no idea."

"What if he wakes up and needs to eat?"

"Hey, relax. You just fed him, look how content he is."

As if to illustrate a point, Micah lets out a squeaky little sigh, effectively melting the both of them.

"Damn, he's cute."

"Don't curse in front of my baby."

"Liv, he's _two weeks old_ , he has no idea."

"I don't care, who knows what his little brain is absorbing right now."

"Uh, doctors. Doctors and scientists know, and it's well documented that he's not gonna remember me cursing in front of him when he was two weeks old."

Micah sighs again, smacking his little lips together in a way that's so endearing they can't help but stop bantering and stare at him, drinking their wine.

"I can't believe how much I love him," she whispers suddenly, meeting his gaze with wide, overwhelmed eyes.

He reaches across and takes her free hand, squeezing it gently. He's always mindful of the fact that while he's had kids before, she's a first-time parent. He only gives her advice when she asks for it, wanting her to build confidence, never wanting her to feel like he has a leg up because, truly, every baby is different. He spends most of his time in awe of her incredible instincts, her ability to know what their son needs before he needs it. Sometimes though, when she looks at him like that, like she needs him to tell her she's not crazy, he knows it's okay to impart wisdom, to draw on his experience.

"It's all-consuming," he agrees, "And it's unwavering, it never stops, every time you look at him...you'll feel it."

"Sometimes I look at him, and I still can't believe we made him. _How_ do you not spend all of your time staring at them?"

"Well," he says gently, "When Gerry and Karen were born I was Governor, and then when Teddy was born I was President, so I never had the chance to just, stare at them, when they were tiny like this. And we always had nurses, and nannies, I never got to do this, hunkering down in the house, snuggling them all day, being sleep-deprived together. So, I say, if we want to sit here and stare at him, we sit here and stare at him."

Tears sting her eyes for a second while he talks, because her hormones are still out of whack, and she forgets sometimes what it was like for him. The man loves being a father, he loves his kids, and he missed so much that she knows it eats at him.

"You know what my favorite thing so far has been?" he asks.

She shakes her head, taking a sip of her wine, absently adjusting the corner of Micah's blanket.

"Watching _you_. You're such an amazing mom already, he's so lucky to have you."

"You should know better by now than to say things like that to me," she murmurs, trying to keep herself from crying, "But thank you."

Luckily, Micah chooses that moment to smack his little mouth again, making such adorable "o"'s with his lips that she can't help but smile at him.

"You're right... _damn_ , he's cute."

* * *

 **A/N: As per usual this website hates me so I had to post in not one, not two, but THREE parts. Proceed to Part II! Do we like baby-fic? Are we here for it? Let me know in a review!**


	13. The Firsts: II

**_The First Use of The Mommy Superpowers_**

Micah doesn't have a full-on crying meltdown until he's four weeks old, which, in retrospect, is a pretty good stretch.

It's Fitz's turn to feed him when it happens. She's started pumping extra bottles so that he can do one of the night feedings, letting her get a longer stretch of sleep.

Liv is vaguely aware that Micah's crying, but she's somewhere between sleep and consciousness, knowing Fitz is up with him and that it's technically not her watch. She drifts in and out, finally realizing he's been crying much longer than usual, and waking up enough to be concerned. Dragging herself out of bed, she pads down the hallway and peeks into the nursery.

"Hey," she greets softly, yawning, "Everything okay?"

Fitz is bare-chested, holding a crying Micah close as he sways back and forth, turning to her with a tired smile.

"We're alright," he sighs, "He's just a sad baby tonight."

"I don't—what do you mean? Did he eat?"

"He ate just fine, he burped, he has a clean diaper, he's not warm, he's just...not happy."

This is a slightly foreign concept to her, if he's crying surely there's a reason, and she stares at the two of them in confusion. If he doesn't need anything, and he's crying, and Fitz hasn't been able to calm him, what do they do now?

"Since you're up, do you want to try?"

It's a valid question, but she must look a little panicked at the thought of perhaps _not_ being able to calm him, because Fitz moves to reassure her immediately.

"I mean, I've got it under control, he's fine I promise, but, he might just want you."

His cries _are_ making her ache, itching to take him in her arms and try to comfort him herself.

"I—okay, I'll take him," she says, hesitantly.

She comes further into the room and takes Micah from him. He's not swaddled so she tucks his arms in underneath his little body, bringing him up to her shoulder and cuddling him close.

"Hi pumpkin, you're okay, shh," she murmurs, bouncing him gently.

Almost immediately, he nuzzles into her neck and his cries start to taper off. Within a few minutes he's content, asleep. She looks up at Fitz, slightly shocked.

"See? He was just trying to tell us he wanted you."

"But I didn't do anything," she marvels, still confused in her sleep-deprived state, "I didn't do anything differently than you did."

Fitz smiles, realizing she really _hasn't_ been around babies enough to fully understand the power she possesses as "Mommy".

"Liv, you're his mom. He knows the sound of your voice, and what you smell like, and when he's older he'll see you and reach for you. You're so comforting to him, without doing anything special, he loves you. You get him to stop crying all the time, how come you're so surprised?"

"Well normally he needs something, he needs to be changed or he's hungry, or he just wants _someone_ to hold him. I think this is the first time he's just wanted _me_. Is that—are you okay with that?"

"Well I can't really hold it against him, I like to lay there too," Fitz chuckles, earning himself a playful eye roll, "There's just something about moms, you're always gonna be able to comfort him in ways that I can't, that's okay."

"So what you're saying is...I have mommy superpowers?" she grins, feeling proud in spite of herself.

"Absolutely," he confirms with a nod, encouraging her, "Wow, he's really zonked out now, look at him."

She tips her chin down to look, and he's the picture of contentment, lips parted as he sleeps soundly, his breathing slow and even.

"You going to rock him for a little while?" Fitz asks, smiling knowingly.

"Of course I am," she says sheepishly, carefully sinking down into the rocker.

"I'm going to bed," he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

"'Kay," she yawns, "I won't be long."

Having Micah fall asleep on her might be her favorite thing about motherhood so far. It's the calmest, most peaceful thing, feeling his soft breaths on her skin, his warmth against her chest. She trails her fingertips soothingly over his back, breathing him in, soaking up the moment even though she's exhausted.

* * *

 ** _The First Smile_**

"Micah," she sing-songs, "Good morning! Did you have a good sleep?"

Micah stops crying as soon as he hears her voice, looking up at her with big serious eyes and kicking his legs.

Olivia leans over his crib and mimics his serious little face. "So serious this morning. Were you dreaming big thoughts about ending world hunger? Shrinking the national debt?"

He starts to complain again, annoyed that she's talking to him but hasn't picked him up yet.

"Okay, come here you. You slept for almost six hours so I bet you're pretty hungry."

As she says it he's already rooting for her breast, trying to suck on her through her pajama top.

"I know pumpkin, hang on. You're getting so big, my goodness, I know, you need lots of food, here we go."

After eight weeks of experience, breastfeeding is easy and comfortable, and its something she genuinely enjoys. Micah seems to love it as well, not just because he's being fed, but because the routine is so comforting to him. He takes bottles from Fitz a couple times a day, but first thing in the morning and right before bed there's no substitute for his mom, and if he's really worked up over something sometimes nursing is the only thing that will calm him.

"Now, today is Daddy's birthday, and I just want to warn you that when we have the party later there will be lots of people that you don't know. You're gonna see your big brother and your big sister, you like them a lot, so no problems there. Aunt Abby is coming, she's one of your favorites too, so you'll be excited to see her. But some of Daddy's friends from the navy, and from his new foundation are coming, and I think most of them have husbands and wives that they're bringing, and some of them are gonna want to hold you."

She often conducts lengthy conversations with Micah while they're nursing. It cracks Fitz up when she forgets to turn the monitor off, especially if she's complaining to the baby about something, or re-hashing something from C-SPAN.

"Don't be scared, okay? They're all very nice people, I promise, and Mommy won't ever be far away."

Micah regards her carefully, enjoying the sound of her voice during his first breakfast as much as he does any other day.

"We thought about maybe making it a dinner party so that everyone would be here after you're asleep, but everyone really wants to meet you so we decided to have a picnic. We don't quite have ourselves together these days, but we had to have _some_ kind of party. Fifty-five is halfway to sixty, we'll have to really give him a hard time when he turns sixty, huh?"

They finish up their nursing session, and after a quick diaper change Olivia carries him down the hallway.

"Daddy's probably dead to the world but we'll sit with him anyway, maybe we can wake him up."

Fitz is indeed dead to the world, sprawled out on his stomach in the middle of their bed, snoring quietly. There's just enough room for her to sit up against her stack of pillows, and she carefully climbs back into bed, propping Micah up in front of her against her bent knees.

"You're almost getting too big to sit this way," she says quietly, smiling at him.

He's wide-awake and his eyes are huge, bouncing around the room and then landing back on her face.

She leans forward, talking to him in an exaggerated whisper. "Stop getting so big! We should really let Daddy sleep because it's his birthday, but—"

For some reason, Micah finds her whispering _hilarious_ and his whole face scrunches up into a smile.

A real smile, one that reaches his eyes and makes his little body wiggle with happiness.

 _His first smile_.

She sits there in shock, wondering if she'd imagined it.

"Did you just smile? Did you smile for Mommy?" she asks him, adopting the same exaggerated whisper tone, and he smiles _again_.

"Fitz!" she hisses, laying a hand on his shoulder, "Fitz, wake up!"

When he doesn't stir she smacks his shoulder, then his side.

"Fitz!"

"Wha—ow! What? What's wrong?"

"He smiled! He was smiling!"

Fitz sits up slightly, rubbing the sleep out of one eye. "Who, Micah?"

" _Yes_."

"Just now?"

" _Yes_ ," she says impatiently, "Just now!"

Fitz yawns widely, trying to get his brain to catch up.

"Micah, did you see her hit me just now? On my _birthday_?"

"Okay, can you focus please?" she laughs, "He _smiled_."

Fitz sits up next to her, blinking his eyes against the morning sun, both of them focusing their attention on Micah. "Well. Make him do it again."

"I don't know if I can just make him do it, all I was doing was talking to him like this, in this whisper voice, and he just thought it was so funny—there! He did it again!"

As soon as her voice drops into a whisper Micah's face lights up with a big smile.

"That's a real smile!" Fitz agrees, sharing in her excitement.

Olivia touches a finger to Micah's nose. "That's so sweet of you to smile for Daddy on his birthday, buddy."

"I'm sure you planned it out, didn't you?" Fitz says, scooping Micah up and settling him against his own thighs, "I know you must have. You thought to yourself, I know just what Daddy wants for his birthday—"

Fitz tries out her whisper trick and earns himself a big smile, breaking off his sentence to laugh at Micah's happy wiggles.

"It's the best, huh?" he says, nudging his shoulder against hers, turning to meet her own beaming smile.

She nods in agreement. "The _best_. Happy birthday, mister."

* * *

 **A/N: As per usual this website hates me so I had to post in not one, not two, but THREE parts. Proceed to Part III! Do we like baby-fic? Are we here for it? Let me know in a review!**


	14. The Firsts: III

**_The First Time_**

She's given the green light at her six-week appointment, but she doesn't feel ready until nearly a month later.

She has a few stitches, and for the first few weeks things are just messy, sore, uncomfortable, and sex is the last thing on her mind. Settling into breastfeeding is her priority, and for a few weeks it's as if everything below the waist is non-existent. Slowly, she heals, but everything still feels too tight and too loose at the same time, like nothing is where it's supposed to be, and six weeks comes and goes.

Fitz is endlessly patient. He has to be the most patient man on the planet, because he doesn't ask about it even once. He asks her how she's feeling, wants to know if she's in pain, if she's feeling happy, or sad, or overwhelmed (sometimes the answer is all of the above), but he never even comes close to asking her about sex.

In the interim, they do a lot of kissing. Soft, innocent pecks over the top of their son's head while he's cuddled against her chest, gentle make out sessions on the couch while Micah naps peacefully in his swing, and once, a heated, tongue-filled exchange in bed that they'd had to cut short because she hadn't been cleared yet and the baby was crying. Kissing him is one of her favorite things to do, but as nice as it is she misses sex, she misses connecting with him on that level.

They don't really talk about it until the seven-week mark. She has a small meltdown, almost crying as she admits that she's ridiculously horny, but she's not ready to have him inside of her yet. Next thing she knows, he has her clit in his mouth and has coaxed two orgasms from her before she can even think about getting her hand around him to reciprocate. And so begins what they'll later refer to as their 'high school' stage.

She finds that she's not self-conscious about her body, that she wants to share it with him as much as she always has. Looking in the mirror, she's well aware that there are changes, that things look different. With breastfeeding, most of her 'baby weight' is gone, but she's curvier now. Her hips are a little wider, her waist isn't quite as narrow, among other things. But Fitz has an unbridled adoration for her, and it's difficult to feel badly about her appearance when he's looking at her the way he does, running his hands over her so reverently.

She plans it out.

At ten weeks old, Micah takes his best nap in the late afternoon. As soon as she finishes feeding him, she lays him in his crib and switches on the baby monitor, closing his door almost all the way. She takes stock of her body and decides she should pump for a few minutes, just for insurance, and brush her teeth before she goes to find him.

He's conveniently on the bed already, working on his laptop. Standing in the doorway for a moment, she lets her eyes trace his body.

 _God, he is so fucking sexy_

The muscles in his forearms are flexing slightly as he types, and his reading glasses are perched midway down his nose. He's put on a pair of dark wash jeans today, and the gray tee shirt he's wearing clings to his chest in the most delicious way.

"Hey," he smiles, looking up from his computer, "Did he go down okay?"

"He did," she confirms, making sure the monitor on her nightstand is switched on.

"Are _we_ napping today? Because I feel like I could use one."

She crawls onto the bed with him and gently takes the laptop out of his hands, a small smile playing on her lips as she closes it and sets it on the nightstand.

He eyes her curiously, watching the way she's moving as she straddles his hips.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asks with an easy smile, letting her pull the glasses from his face and set them aside.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten what this look means _already_ ," she sighs playfully, leaning forward to kiss him slowly.

She kisses him the way she hasn't in months, full of purpose, biting sensually at his bottom lip, softly grinding her whole body into him.

"Hi," she murmurs against his lips.

" _Hi_."

He's pleasantly surprised by this turn of events, she can tell, and his hands slide over her thighs, up to gently squeeze her ass.

"So, we're not napping," he grins.

"Oh, we're taking a nap, the naked kind," she mumbles, kissing her way over his neck, up to breathe softly into his ear, "I want you."

Immediately, she knows that he understands what she's saying, and when she pulls back to look at him his eyes contain a mixture of lust and slight apprehension.

"As in—"

"I want to," she nods, already a little breathless, kissing him again, "I'm ready."

"Livvie, are you sure? We can wait, get a babysitter, spend the night at a fancy hotel or something where we don't have to worry about—"

"No, I want to be here, in our bed where I'm comfortable," she says softly, "And I'm not ready to leave him with someone other than you yet. I don't want to wait anymore, I _miss_ you, I _want_ you—"

"I want you too, I want you so much, come here."

He cups her face in his hands and kisses her heatedly, rocking his hips up against her. They're frantic for a few minutes, moving things forward in a way they haven't let themselves in what feels like a _very_ long time.

"Fitz," she says suddenly, pulling back and resting her forehead against his, out of breath.

"Wha—hey, what's wrong?" he asks, eyes softening when he sees the nervous look on her face, "If you don't want to, it's okay—"

"No, I just—things might not be, the same, as before. It might be…different."

His eyes warm, and he cups her face in his hands again, thumbs tracing her cheekbones.

"It's still you and me, okay? You and me. No matter what we do, or what's changed, or how things happen, it's going to be incredible."

He looks at her reassuringly for a few seconds, waiting for her to smile at him. Her face relaxes and she tangles her fingers in his hair, pulling his head to the side so that she can start pressing hot kisses down his neck.

"Since you brought it up, though," he moans, drawing her attention back to his face, "I bought this the other day."

He reaches over to his nightstand and opens the drawer, pulling out a bottle of lubricant.

"I read that we should use this, even if we don't think we need it, at least the first time."

"You 'read'?" she asks, slightly amused that he's evidently done research.

"Well, I didn't authorize a case study or anything, I just did some Googling," he says, looking a little embarrassed, which wasn't her intention at all, "Is that weird?"

"No," she murmurs, "It's sweet. And very sexy."

The tone of her voice resets the mood, and he uses his thumb on her chin to part her lips, starting a slow, wet seduction that has her moaning softly into his mouth.

As soon as they start taking clothes off, she can see him wondering if he should unhook her bra. All of the times they've fooled around so far, she's kept it on, not quite ready to have her breasts touched, not sure how to reconcile breastfeeding and sex.

This time, she takes his hands and guides them around her back, inviting him to take it off. The straps slide off her shoulders as he unclips it, and she watches his eyes darken as he pulls the garment from her body. He hesitates again, until she takes his hands and guides them up to cover her breasts, letting her eyes slide closed when he massages gently.

He sits up and puts his mouth on her after a moment, kissing around each tender globe. When his tongue hesitantly traces her left nipple, her whole body stiffens involuntarily and he pulls away immediately.

"Is that—should I not—"

"You can," she breathes, guiding him back toward her chest with a hand in his hair, "I want you to. Just be gentle, they're so sensitive."

He _is_ gentle, carefully gauging her reactions and picking up on what she can and can't handle. Soft sweeping motions and circles feel _so_ good, and she knows he's already figured that out because he gives her more of it, humming in satisfaction against her chest. Gentle suction is on the edge of too much, and teeth are out of the question, but as usual he reads her body perfectly, pleasures her exquisitely, and she's panting by the time he pulls away.

"Fitz, please," she pants, trying to pull him closer, anxious to get him inside of her.

"Mmm-mmm," he hums, putting her on her back and sliding down her body, pulling her underwear off, "I've got plans for you, still."

He spends long minutes between her thighs, coaxing gasps and breathless moans from her, playing with her clit, teasing her until she's begging him to make her come. Her orgasm makes her back arch, it makes her thighs tremble around his head and her belly convulse, it's that good, it's _incredible_ , and she's desperate for more, desperate to feel him inside her.

By this time, she _really_ doesn't need the extra lubrication but he uses it anyway, carefully stretching her with two fingers, smoothing the slippery liquid inside her.

"Let me do it," she murmurs, taking a little into the palm of her hand and slicking it over his cock.

His forehead drops to her shoulder immediately and he groans, thrusting his erection into her firm grip a few times.

" _Fuck_ , Liv, I need—are you ready?"

" _Yes_. Want you."

With a guiding hand, he presses inside of her slowly. The slide is easy but the stretch is—

 _Oh, shit, that sort of hurts_

"Okay?" he asks tentatively, taking in her furrowed brows, her labored breathing, "Liv—"

 _Ouch, ouch, okay breathe, Olivia, breathe, it's getting better_

He pulls out a little bit, worried that he's hurting her but her thighs tense around him, holding him in.

"No, no, don't, it's okay. I'm okay, just give me a minute, don't move yet," she breathes, "Kiss me."

She threads her hands into his hair and guides him down into a kiss. He keeps things slow, teasing her mouth open, sucking on her bottom lip the way he knows turns her on. Keeping his hips still when she's so warm, and slick, and tight around him is agonizing, but he'd rather die than hurt her so he distracts both of them, lowering his mouth to her neck. Taking his time, he presses his mouth over every inch of skin, hitting all of her favorite spots with his tongue, his lips, his teeth.

"Move, baby," she murmurs, tipping her hips up experimentally.

There's a bit of a dull ache there but the pinching stretch is already gone, and he's starting to feel really good.

"Are you sure?"

"Mmm-hmm, just go slow."

"Talk to me, okay?" he says, starting to rock his hips into her.

He buries his face in her neck again, groaning softly.

"God, you feel so good, missed you."

She's feeling nothing but pleasure now, and she moans into his mouth when he kisses her deeply. A few more thrusts and she's completely lost in him, sighing and running her hands over his back, burying her fingers in his hair, catching his rhythm and rolling her hips to meet his.

"Fitz, you can—a little harder, _oh_ , just like that," she gasps, a smile breaking through.

"Good?" he asks, eyes hooded with arousal as he watches her enjoy herself, writhing around beneath him.

He's adjusted the angle of his thrusts slightly, and she can't answer him because heat is curling it's way from her core up into her belly, spreading over her hips, and suddenly it's _so good_ she can hardly breath.

"I missed you so much," she whimpers, pulling him down into a kiss, moaning again when he hitches her legs higher around his waist, " _Yes, baby_."

Twenty glorious minutes later they're both sated, lying on their backs next to one another, still catching their breath.

"Mmm," she sighs, rolling over to lean against his chest, "I don't ever want to go that long without doing that, ever again."

His arm comes up around her immediately, fingers playing with the ends of her hair.

"I think we just gave 'naptime' a whole new meaning," he grins, waggling his eyebrows at her, making her laugh.

"Oh god, we are such _parents_ ," she realizes, giggling into his chest.

His face softens after a moment, their laughter tapering off.

"I was hurting you, at the beginning, I could tell," he says softly, obviously feeling badly about it.

"Just a little bit," she soothes.

"Why is that? Shouldn't things be—shouldn't everything be basically the same as before?"

She narrows her eyes at him in slight confusion.

"I don't really know if I want to know the answer to this, but, haven't you done this before? You do have more than one kid…"

"Without going into too much detail, lets just say it was much, much, _much_ longer than ten weeks before we ever—"

"Right, right, okay. Well," she sighs, "Sometimes when your stitches heal, things are…uh, tight, for a while."

He makes a face, grimacing on her behalf.

"You asked!" she laughs, "And you already knew about that part."

"I know, but, geez Liv, the things women go through to have babies."

"I know," she nods, soberly, "If men had to do it the human race would die out."

"You're probably right," he agrees, eyes comically wide, sending her into another fit of giggles.

* * *

 **A/N: Do we like baby-fic? Are we here for it? Let me know in a review!**


	15. The Center for Balance

**A/N: The only place I could go in my head after watching 5x17 was inpatient rehab for Liv, so that's what I wrote. I borrowed Catherine from The Right Kind of Madness (update coming end of April!) for this story, because she's my homegirl, and I'd like to keep the characterization of Liv's therapist as clear as possible in my writing. This story takes place 6 months post-5x17!**

 _Disclaimer: Original characters belong to me, Liv and Fitz belong to Shonda. I AM NOT A MENTAL HEALTH PROFESSIONAL. I did research for this story, but please do not accept anything mental-health related in this story as professional information._

* * *

They fly into Harrisburg International because it's less crowded than Philadelphia, and he doesn't want to risk anyone knowing he's here. Olivia has been able to disappear relatively quietly, and he doesn't want to be the one to expose her by being caught on a random excursion to Pennsylvania. Even though he's no longer President, he still draws attention anywhere he goes, so they land in the middle of the night and drive upstate the following day.

He's anxious on the drive up, not knowing what to expect. He hasn't been in contact with her at all since…that night. The night he'd found her nearly catatonic in the bunker, splattered with the ex-Vice President's blood. She'd withdrawn from him after, and he hadn't heard a word from her until a couple months later when one of her associates hand-delivered a letter to him. The letter, written in shaky penmanship, detailed her plans to check herself into psychological rehab. She didn't offer much explanation beyond the fact that she'd finally found herself unable to function, unable to cope, that her team had pushed her in this direction but hadn't forced her, and that she didn't know how long she'd be gone.

The letter had held an unspoken context of _wait for me, I'm telling you this because I want to come home to you_ , but he refused to let himself hope. He forced himself to just be happy that she was getting help, to be happy knowing she'd be okay. He thought about her every day, wondered about the process, if it was working for her. And then, eleven weeks later, another letter, asking him if he'd like to come up and visit her, telling him she _wanted_ him to come and see her. He'd gotten on a plane two days later, and now, just like that, they're pulling up to the gates of The Center for Balance, tucked away in the northern Pennsylvania countryside.

The gate attendant checks their Secret Service credentials and lets them pass, directing them up to the main visitor entrance. The grounds are beautiful, with lush, grassy fields shaded by large trees, accented with colorful plants. The yellows, whites, pinks, and purples of the flowers pop against the green background, dotting the landscape like Easter eggs.

Even though it's a warm, sunny day, pushing seventy-five degrees, he's surprised by how many people are outside. There's a group doing yoga on one of the lawns, while another group is gathered near a small pond, deep in conversation with one another. There are also plenty of people walking alone, or in pairs, enjoying the sunshine, sitting under trees reading and writing. Some of them look up as the car passes but most of them don't, absorbed in whatever it is they're doing.

They park the car and approach the entrance, finding that they need to be buzzed in. The door swings open to reveal a room not unlike a hotel lobby, and Fitz approaches the young man at the front desk, introducing himself unnecessarily.

"Hi, I'm Fitz Grant, here to see Olivia Pope?"

"Of course, you're right here on the list for today. Umm, I'll need to see some identification, it's a formality, Mr. President."

"Not a problem at all," Fitz smiles, reaching for his wallet.

"Okay, great. Let me call a counselor and they'll take you out to her. Clip this to your shirt please," the young man says, handing him a visitor badge.

Fitz watches as he makes the call, obviously excited to relay the news that a former President is on the grounds.

"Hey, Brian, I have Fitzgerald Grant here to visit Olivia. For real. I know righ—yes, okay, see you in a minute."

He turns back to Fitz, carefully arranging his face.

"Brian will be right in to get you, sir. I'm sorry, but your agents aren't authorized to see Olivia, they'll need to stay here in the lobby."

"That's not a problem, right guys?"

The two agents that he's brought with him look none too pleased, but agree to keep tabs on him from a distance after a brief explanation of the Center's security procedures.

Brian turns out to be a tall, thin man who looks to be in his mid-thirties, beaming with excitement.

"Mr. President, it's an honor to have you with us today," he says, shaking Fitz's hand firmly.

"I'm—is it weird to say I'm excited to be here?" Fitz laughs, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

"Not at all! Let's go find Liv, shall we?"

It's interesting and heartening to Fitz that Brian doesn't immediately know where she is, that she isn't being monitored like an inmate.

"Let's see, Sunday morning, the three amigas are most likely out in the gazebo."

"Three amigas?"

"Olivia, Natalie, and Anna. They're inseparable," he explains, leading Fitz outside through the back of the building and squinting into the distance, pointing west, "Yep, they're out there. This way, sir."

* * *

"I told him it was bath day for my hairless cats and I needed to be home by seven-thirty, and he _believed_ me! Ugh, it was the worst blind date I've ever been on," Anna groans, as Olivia and Natalie immediately burst into laughter.

"Why didn't you use a normal excuse?" Natalie wheezes, "Like, cramps, or something, that works every time!"

"I think part of me wanted to see how much I could get away with. Turns out it was a _lot_."

"Okay, from here on out all men need to be approved by us first. And no more blind dates," Liv giggles, "Those rarely end well."

"Ooh, _señor presidente_ approaching at nine o'clock, Liv."

Liv looks in the direction Natalie's indicated and sure enough, there's no mistaking him. He's as gorgeous as ever, dressed in a light blue collared shirt that matches his eyes, sleeves rolled up, and khaki chinos. Instantly, her heart rate picks up.

"Well?! Don't you want to go running into his arms?"

Olivia doesn't say anything in response to Anna, her eyes glued to Fitz's approaching form in the distance.

"Ooh, look at her face," Natalie mumbles, nudging Anna in the shoulder.

Anna clicks her tongue. "She's got those heart-eyes going on, any bigger and she'd be an emoji."

"You guys know I can hear you, right? I'm sitting right here," Liv interrupts.

"Temper, temper, she's nervous," Anna continues, and Natalie nods her head, humming in agreement.

Liv narrows her eyes, popping another red grape from the large bowl they're sharing into her mouth. "Okay, you've made your point, knock it off."

Anna and Natalie both look like they're on safari, leaning toward one another and eyeing Fitz from afar. "Your man is looking _fine_ today, Liv, _muy caliente_ , if you don't lay it out with him we're gonna start fighting over him."

"Guys, can you maybe be supportive right now? I'm freaking out a little bit."

Natalie's eyes soften, and she reaches a hand out to squeeze Liv's forearm. "You're ready for this, mama. Didn't you already talk it through with Catherine?"

"No, I know, I did, it's just—"

"Someone coming in from the outside is always weird," Anna interjects, sympathetically.

"And it's not just someone, it's _him_. He's…he's the reason I'm here. I wanted to get better for myself, and so I could be better for _him_. He's part of what I want when I'm finished here," Liv breathes, realizing he's getting close enough now that she should probably stand up and greet him.

Natalie and Anna listen raptly, nodding along in encouragement, already knowing how important Fitz is to her and what she wants to tell him today.

Anna gives her a gentle nudge. "Go get him. We'll be right here. Watching and listening to everything you're saying."

Liv rolls her eyes playfully and stands up, smoothing the skirt of her pale yellow maxi dress.

"I can't thank you enough for the support," she says sarcastically.

She takes a few steps out of the gazebo into the grass, meeting him as he walks up. As soon as he's close enough their eyes lock, and _there it is_ , it's always there, those instant sparks, that breathless pull.

"Olivia," Brian greets, "Got a special visitor for you."

"I can see that, who let him in here?" she jokes, crossing her arms and returning Fitz's smile.

Brian extends a hand to Fitz. "Mr. President, it's been an honor."

Fitz shakes his hand, thanking him warmly.

Leaning to look around Liv toward the peanut gallery behind her, Brian calls out to Natalie and Anna.

"Ladies, behave yourselves. Lunch is out in about an hour, don't forget to come check in after you eat."

"Thanks Brian," Olivia says, waving at him.

Brian walks away and the two of them are left staring at each other, not quite sure what to do next.

Fitz is immediately taken aback by how _healthy_ she looks. She's always beautiful to him, but right now she's positively _glowing_ , there aren't any bags beneath her gorgeous eyes, and her body looks wonderfully filled out, like she's actually been eating three meals a day. She looks taken care of, she looks like she's been taking care of _herself_.

He awkwardly takes a step toward her, and her arms start to open when he abruptly stops, realizing where they are.

"Can I—are we allowed to hug?"

The two women at the table behind her start to cackle with laughter, and his eyes widen in confusion.

"Fitz, it's rehab, not prison," Olivia deadpans, her eyes soft and amused.

His face colors in embarrassment that doesn't last long, because she's stepping into his space, looking up at him with a gentle smile and warm eyes.

"In fact, if you _don't_ hug me, I'm going to be very upset," she says quietly, looping her arms around his waist, tears shining in her eyes.

"Come here," he says roughly, getting emotional himself from the relief of seeing her.

Her arms wrap around his shoulders and he buries his face in her neck, inhaling the familiar scent of vanilla and lavender. His arms are warm and strong, and it feels so good to hold onto him. She feels him take a deep breath and sigh into her shoulder, one large palm moving in circles over her back.

"It's so good to see you," she breathes, swaying gently in his arms.

He gives her a squeeze. "You too, Livvie."

She turns her face into his neck, nuzzling her nose there to breathe in the mix of subtle cologne, spicy aftershave, and clean shampoo that's uniquely him. His arms slide to the base of her spine and instinctively press her close. When he blinks his eyes open for a second he catches her friends staring at them, and he's reminded again of where they are.

"We have an audience," he murmurs into her ear.

She groans softly, reluctantly releasing him and turning around to face her friends, taking Fitz by the hand to lead him up into the gazebo where Natalie and Anna are trying to embarrass her as thoroughly as possible. Neither one of them makes any effort to wipe the dreamy look from their face, and they're fanning themselves with napkins.

Liv bites the inside of her lip to keep from laughing, and walks around the table to quickly snatch the napkins away.

"Fitz, this is Natalie, and Anna— _stop it_ —they're both _extremely_ unstable—"

" _Hey_!"

"—and neither one of them is to be trusted!" Liv finishes, giggling and deflecting the flying grapes now being tossed at her.

Fitz watches the exchange with great amusement, intrigued and delighted by her friendship with these women.

"It's nice to meet both of you," he greets, smiling and reaching across the table to shake their hands.

Natalie has no shame in looking him up and down. "The pleasure is all ours, Mr. President."

She earns herself a sharp poke in the side from Olivia, who shakes her head and mouths a subtle, _I'm so sorry_ , from behind them.

"What our friend here _means_ to say, is that we're big fans," Anna interjects, "I think what you did with the Brandon Bill is one of the greatest steps forward any administration has made in recent times. President Ross has some big shoes to fill, I hope she follows in your footsteps."

"That's very kind of you. Little known fact, Susan tore the original draft of that bill to shreds and helped me re-write it."

"You're kidding! Liv, you never told us that!"

"I actually didn't know about it," Liv shrugs, walking around to grip the back of the chair she'd been occupying, smiling as she watches him easily charm her friends.

"True story," Fitz confirms, "So, rest assured, the country is in excellent hands."

A sharp gasp from Liv pulls the three of them from their conversation, and they all turn to catch her coming out of a sudden flashback, eyes closed and brows furrowed.

"Whoa, mama, let go, let go, its okay," Natalie says, jumping up to help Liv ease her fingers from around the chair, where they're currently in a white-knuckled grip.

Anna pushes the chair out so Liv can sink down into it, pulling her around and taking her hands. Natalie gathers the hair back from her face, smoothing it repeatedly.

Olivia takes a couple deep breaths. "I'm okay, it's okay, it was a quick one. God, I _hate_ the quick ones though."

"It's like getting slapped across the face," Natalie empathizes.

"Lot of excitement today," Anna murmurs, glancing up toward Fitz and continuing to gently rub her hands, "You're probably extra sensitive."

Liv nods, squeezing Anna's hands and taking another deep breath. She lets the two of them ground her with touch, the routine something they've rotated through for one another dozens of times.

"Identify the trigger?" Natalie prompts quietly, still smoothing Liv's hair.

"The chair," she breathes immediately, "I triggered _myself_."

She laughs a little bit and the other two women laugh with her, starting to re-group.

"Rookie move, Liv, real smooth," Natalie teases, kissing the top of her head and walking back to her seat.

Groaning in embarrassment, Olivia lays her head down against the table for a moment and then peeks up at Fitz. "Still want to spend the day with a head case?"

Fitz has been silently watching the whole scene unfold, amazed by the deep bond that's apparent between the three women. He's seen her have flashbacks before, but he's never seen her deal with one so quickly and gracefully, with so much control. He's never seen her let anyone _help_ her deal with one. It's a small glimpse into all of the hard work she's been doing here, work that appears to really be paying off.

He gives her a reassuring smile. "No place I'd rather be."

She looks relieved, staring into his eyes for a moment.

"Awww," Natalie and Anna chorus obnoxiously, leaning into one another and dissolving into giggles.

Olivia rolls her eyes, standing up from the table. "And on that note, I think I've subjected you to enough of these two."

Grabbing a blanket from the pile in the corner of the gazebo, she hops down the stairs and beckons him to follow her. "C'mon, I want to show you my favorite spot on campus."

Fitz gives a silent wave to Anna and Natalie, turning and jogging to catch up with Liv.

"No glove, no love, Liv!"

"Don't do anything we wouldn't do!"

"Fuck off, both of you," she throws over her shoulder, laughing.

Fitz chuckles, catching up with her and gently bumping her shoulder.

"Your friends seem nice," he says, smiling and sliding his hands into his pockets.

Liv laughs again, covering her eyes for a moment. "They're _terrible_. But they're really good people, both of them."

"They're both—um—are they both…?"

"Patients? It's okay to call us that, it's what we are. Yeah, they're both patients here. We met in our PTSD focus group. They're kidnapping survivors too, so, we had common ground right away."

He's struck by how open she's being, by the language she's using, as if phrases like 'kidnapping survivor' are part of her everyday vocabulary now, and he supposes they probably are. This is her world right now, she's finally acknowledging everything, finally saying the words out loud, and it's both strange and wonderful to see. He watches her tip her face up toward the sun, sighing happily as they walk.

"I'm so glad you came on such a nice day. It's disappointing when it's our free day and we have to stay inside."

"Free day?"

"Sunday is what we call our 'free day'. We don't have anything scheduled on Sundays, no group, no one-on-ones, no seminars, the only thing you have to do is tell them you've eaten and the rest of the day is yours. They're big on eating here," she jokes.

"I thought maybe there would be more people here visiting. Isn't there one day where everyone comes to visit?"

"Oh, like a 'visitation' day? No, it doesn't work that way here. They don't like to have too many visitors on campus at one time. But I guess it works out, not all of us are ready at the same time."

"Ready?"

"Ready to see our family, our friends from home. If you want to have someone come see you it has to be approved by your primary therapist, you have to talk about it, make sure it's the right thing to do."

"And you were ready to see me?"

She smiles shyly at him, nodding.

"I've wanted to see you for a while. Catherine made me wait."

They wind their way over to the opposite side of campus, and she points out various buildings along the way, giving him an impromptu tour while they make small talk. This side isn't nearly as crowded with people, just a few here and there.

"So, today's your free day, what's the rest of the week like?"

"Well, I see Catherine one-on-one twice a week. We started out with three times a week, but we dropped the third session a couple weeks ago. PTSD focus group is three times a week, and then I'm in one of the anxiety focus groups, that's three times a week too. Mondays and Fridays we have a seminar with the whole campus that's usually on a broad mental health topic, so we all feel included."

She's in rehab, he knows this, and yet hearing her talk about going to group, having one-on-one counseling, makes it so real for him. It's jarring, in a way, hearing her use the terminology and talk about it so casually. Of course she can talk about it that way, she's been living it for the past eleven weeks, but for him it's a complete departure from normalcy.

"That's…an intense schedule," he says, letting her lead him off the path and through the grass, heading for an enormous weeping willow tree.

"It sounds like a lot, but it is and it isn't. In group, you don't have to talk if you don't want to, so if you're having a harder week and you just need to listen, you can. The hard sessions are the one-on-ones, those are the ones I fought the hardest in the beginning."

They dodge some of the larger hanging willow branches and spread the blanket out at the base of the tree trunk.

"This is nice. This is your spot, huh?" he asks, stretching out on the blanket, leaning against his hands.

She kicks her sandals off and leans her back against the trunk. "This is my spot. I've been coming to sit under this tree since my second week here. This is where I first met Catherine, actually."

"She's your—what did you call it? Your primary therapist?" he prompts.

"She wasn't at first. I was assigned to someone else, and he's a great therapist, but we just didn't connect. One day, my second week here, I just—I felt so hopeless, it all felt so impossible. I came out here, to this tree, and I just cried," she recalls, closing her eyes at the memory.

"I wasn't even supposed to be out here, and it was Catherine that came out to get me. As soon as she saw me crying, she sat down and she just took my hand, like we were old friends. She asked me if I wanted to talk about it, and when I looked at her…I instantly wanted to tell her everything, we bonded right away. She transferred me into her care that afternoon."

They lapse into comfortable silence. He can't stop staring at her, watching as she rests her head back against the tree trunk, letting the rays of sun that peek through the branches caress her face.

"I can't get over how _good_ you look," he admits, hoping she understands that he doesn't just mean physically.

Her easy smile tells him she does. "I _feel_ really good. I feel better than I have in years, maybe the best I've felt, ever."

Birds rustle gently in the overhead branches, and the breeze ruffles her curls as they continue to take each other in.

"Thank you for coming all the way up here to see me," she murmurs, "I wasn't sure if—I didn't really offer much explanation when I left and I wondered if…part of me thought maybe you wouldn't want to come."

"I'll admit, when I got word that you wanted to see me I didn't really know what to expect. I don't know what I was picturing, but it wasn't this. You're so…different, it's a lot to take in. And the last time I saw you—"

"I was completely out of control."

They've never acknowledged her mental health issues so directly before, and it feels taboo to him still, like any moment she's going to get too uncomfortable and shut down.

"When you wrote me that letter to tell me you were coming here, I was so shocked," he admits, "I just never expected—what changed for you?"

"I killed someone."

Even though he knows it, even though he was there to hold her after it happened, hearing her say the words knocks the wind out of him.

She takes a deep breath. "I killed someone and I almost went to jail for it, I _should_ have gone to jail for it. It was a direct result of my PTSD running so rampant and wild that I could barely function through the nightmares, and the flashbacks, and the anxiety. I looked up one day and I realized the last three years of my life were a complete blur, and that really scared me."

"I was scared for you," he says quietly, "I watched you unravel and felt like there was nothing I could do about it—"

Her eyes get soft and vulnerable, and she leans away from the tree a little bit. "You couldn't have done anything. It had to come from me, it had to be _my choice_ to wake up and deal with my issues. I still struggle with how far I had to go for that wake up call to resonate, but, it just gets added to the pile of things I'm working through."

"Will you tell me? What it's been like, I mean? How are you, really?" he breathes, desperate to get to know this new, brighter version of her, "Because you seem so much—"

"Better?" she finishes for him, "I am. In a lot of ways I am better, _so_ much better. And in a lot of ways I'm still trying to figure it out, but I'm getting there. Therapy is…it's the hardest thing I've ever done. Some days the progress is so tangible that I feel like I could go home tomorrow, and other days I just want to sit and cry because there are things I _still_ can't face."

She absently picks a few blades of grass as she talks, tying them in knots. "It hasn't just been about treating the PTSD, although that was our priority at first, I'm a textbook case of what can happen when you don't treat it. It's been about unpacking everything, talking about my parents, and relationships, and trust, and _you_ , and putting a name to things that I haven't known how to deal with, like the anxiety, and the self-doubt."

He listens with laser focus, meeting her eyes every time she looks up, soaking up every word she's saying.

"And your friends," he adds softly, "It must be nice, knowing you aren't alone."

"Having them has meant _everything_ ," she agrees quietly, tears flooding her eyes, "I'll never forget the first time they shared their stories in group. We just looked at each other, and—having someone understand what you've been through on that level, it—I underestimated how much it would help me, how much I needed it. I underestimated everything about this process. Having to re-live all of those moments, and say things out loud, things that happened to me, things that I did, it's so terrifying and so hard. But it really…it helps. It's helped me process, and move forward."

"Liv, I can't—I don't even have the words to tell you how happy it makes me that you're doing this. You _deserve_ this. You deserve to have your life back, you deserve to have everything that you want, I'm so glad you're embracing it," he breathes.

Something that he's just said makes a smile spread across her face, and she closes her eyes for a moment.

"Catherine is always asking me what I want. She's always saying, 'What is it _really_ that you want, Olivia?'. I'm going to be forty this year and I still don't know what I want out of life, how ridiculous is that?" she laughs humorlessly, "I've spent a lot of time trying to answer that question, because, I thought I knew, and then it turned out that I didn't, and it all got so twisted and confused. But I know now that part of what I want, a big part of it, is you."

She looks up and meets his eyes when she says it, and his heart stops. He's wanted to hear her say it, was hoping that she would, and before he can say anything she's continuing.

"And I know you've heard that from me before, but I wanted you to come up here so that I could tell you in person that I mean it this time. That's why I waited so long to ask you to come, I wanted to be able to sit here and have this conversation with you without worrying about breaking down, or having a flashback, I wanted to be closer to being _whole_. Do you know what my clearest memory is from that night in the bunker?"

It takes him a moment to realize she's actually asking him, he's so caught up in what she's saying, and he shakes his head to indicate that he doesn't.

"You," she says softly, "I don't remember a lot of the details, I mostly remember feeling completely numb, but I remember every detail of your face. I remember what you smelled like, the way your arms felt around me, your voice in my ear. I remember just feeling like…if you were there everything was going to be okay, because I trust you so implicitly, because you're _home_ to me, and I remember wishing you'd never leave, that I could keep that feeling, always. It's taken me so long to realize that I _can_ keep that feeling, that you've been trying to give it to me for years and I keep running away from it. I want that feeling, I want to be with you, if you'll have me."

He lets her words hang in the air between them for a moment, looking at her with happy tears in his eyes.

"I've always wanted you, Liv. I've wanted every version of you, fractured, broken, happy, sad. I just want _you._ I love that you want to give me the very best version of yourself, but I want all of you, you can come to me just as you are."

He's telling her everything she needs to hear, everything she _hoped_ he would say, and she has to make sure it's real. "Really?"

"Liv, I love you. _You_. I've never stopped loving you, and I'm never going to stop loving you. Everything you just told me about what you've been doing, it's everything I've ever wanted for you. I just want you to be happy, whether we're together or not. If we're together, that's just two dreams coming true instead of one."

"I was so scared you wouldn't want me—"

" _You_ were scared? I thought I was the one who screwed everything up, after the White House, after _everything_ —"

"It was never you. I had to learn not to be scared of you—"

"You were scared of me?"

"Not like that, it's—"

She crawls forward and sits back onto her feet next to him, kneeling closer. "Somewhere along the way, I internalized this idea that I didn't deserve you, that I didn't deserve the kind of love we have. I'm still—it's still something we talk about and it's something I still struggle with sometimes, but I know now that the idea that I don't deserve to be with you, is a lie."

Her eyes are fierce, and she smiles softly at him. "What he have is special, and beautiful, and it's something we _both_ deserve to have in our lives. I never thought about it this way before, but when I ran away from you I was robbing _both_ of us of the chance to have something extraordinary. I'm moving forward now, and I want us to move forward together. This isn't something I want to run away from ever again."

His arms come up around her and pull her into a hug. "Never again."

"Never again," she echoes, whispering into his neck.

They hold each other tightly for long minutes, and more so than ever before it feels like they're making a silent promise, like they're promising to get it right this time, that this time it's _forever_.

Reluctantly, she pulls away, something across the lawn catching her attention. She strokes the back of her hand over his cheek affectionately, unfolding herself from his arms.

"I'm sorry, I need to go grab food, otherwise I'm gonna get scolded," she explains, standing up and smoothing her dress, "Just stay here, I'll be right back."

He watches her jog across the lawn and use her badge to access one of the buildings, and then a few minutes later she reappears, carrying two bottles of water and a couple of wrapped sandwiches. They eat in companionable silence until she catches him watching her.

"What?" she asks around a mouthful of turkey and spinach.

He chuckles. "Nothing, it's refreshing to see you eat something so substantial."

She laughs, swallowing and wiping her mouth with a napkin. "I told you, they're big on eating here. Three meals a day plus snacks, no excuses."

"Does that mean you'll let me cook for you when you come home?"

"You can't cook! Can you?"

"I guess you'll just have to wait and find out."

They finish eating and lay down on the blanket for a while, enjoying the afternoon sun through the boughs of the willow tree. He peppers her with more questions about therapy, soaking up how open and responsive she's being.

"Learning how to manage the PTSD has been the most immediately gratifying thing," she's saying "I'm down to two or three flashbacks a week, and the nightmares have all but stopped, which is such a relief."

"I need to learn how to do that, what the girls did for you earlier, I want to be able to help you."

"Here, I'll teach you right now," she says softly, beckoning him to sit up in front of her, "So, one of the best ways to immediately deal with a flashback is to 'ground' yourself in one of the five senses. You can suck on a lemon, or sniff peppermint oil, there are all kinds of tricks. I didn't know I was doing it at the time, but I've always gravitated toward touch. Even when I first started having them, I would squeeze something, like my coat, or my pants—"

"Or a pillow, or the tablecloth," he interjects, now recalling all of the times he's seen her do it.

She smiles at his attention to detail. "Exactly. But what works even better is having someone touch _me_ , and I never knew that, because I never tried it until I came here. So, what really helps me come out of it is if someone takes my hands—"

She offers her hands to him and he takes them both, enveloping them in his.

"—and it's really soothing if you just, rub them between yours, squeeze them a little bit, and when I start to squeeze you back—"

Switching their grip slightly, she squeezes his hands, tangling their fingers together.

"—that's how you'll know I'm back in the room with you, that I'm starting to feel better. Having something tangible like that just helps me remember that what I'm seeing isn't real, that it's just my brain acting out."

As she finishes explaining, she realizes how close his face is to hers, that she's a little bit breathless just from his nearness. Her eyes flutter when she sees him swallow, knowing he feels it too. His thumbs are stroking tiny patterns against the backs of her hands and it's sending sparks through her body, waking up places she hasn't acknowledged in months. She nearly stops breathing altogether when he leans in close, nuzzling his nose against her cheek, ghosting his lips over her face.

"Even now—um, I'm not, having a flashback—but, it's—it's nice, it calms my—I never realized how much—hmm…"

"Shh…"

He shushes her softly as she sighs, calming her stammering and pressing his mouth to hers. It's just one kiss, and then he pulls away, but it's one soft, warm, perfect kiss. It's the first chance she's had to let his love wash over her, unencumbered by all of her previous hang ups and internalized pain, all the things she's worked so hard to let go of.

He's a little hesitant when he pulls back. "Was that okay?"

"More than okay. Do it again," she murmurs, leaning in to him, sliding her hands out of his grip and up to cup his jaw.

They kiss softly, breathing and sighing, keeping things slow and easy.

"Are we breaking any rules right now?"

Her brow furrows between kisses, "I actually don't know— _mmm_ —we're not allowed to fraternize with other patients, but no one said anything to me about visitors."

"Well, let's fraternize away, then," he quips, dipping his mouth to her neck, making her laugh.

His lips are warm on her neck, and his kisses make goosebumps prickle all over her body. And then his mouth is back on hers and she's sliding her tongue into his mouth, and they're making out. They slip into it without a second thought, because it's like breathing for them, because it's equal parts comfort and undeniable chemistry, because they're _done_ fighting it.

"I've never made out with you in public before, I don't know where to put my hands," he confesses softly, smiling against her cheek, "This is fun, it's like we're making out at a church picnic or something."

"Here," she giggles, guiding them to her hips, "This is a safe spot. Feels good too, I miss your hands."

After a minute or so however, she's regretting her choice, because the little circles his thumbs are tracing against her hipbones as they kiss are sending pulses of warmth to places she can't let him tend to right now.

"Your hands," she whines, and he chuckles against her lips, knowing exactly what he's doing to her.

"You put them there," he teases, sliding them up to grip her waist instead.

Their kisses slow naturally, foreheads leaning together as their breathing slows.

She pulls back and cups his face in her hands, her eyes suddenly serious. "Fitz, I'm not—I'm not ready to come home yet. I have more work to do here, and when I do come home…re-integration is scary, and it takes time—"

"I'm here, Livvie," he says softly, "I'll wait for you. I'll give you space, I'll be with you, whatever you need. I'm here."

She can't help but smile at him. Of course he is. Of course he will. He's Fitz, _her_ Fitz.

She gently bumps her nose against his, nuzzling, pulling back so he can chase her mouth in an achingly familiar dance. He connects with her in another kiss, sighing happily when she sucks on his bottom lip.

"Hey! Get a room!"

They break apart to see an older woman strolling toward them across the grass, shielding her eyes against the sun and smiling broadly.

"Who's that?"

Liv's eyes light up. "It's Catherine. What is she doing here? She's not normally on campus on Sundays."

Liv gets up and gathers her skirt in one hand, skipping across the lawn excitedly to greet Catherine, who sweeps her up into a warm hug.

Fitz can't help but notice that she bounces and hops and skips everywhere she goes here, like she's so much lighter, like gravity almost can't hold her down. He can't quite hear what they're saying, but he watches Catherine affectionately tuck a few of Olivia's curls behind her ear, cupping her cheek with the other hand.

"What are you doing here?" Liv asks, gratefully returning Catherine's hug.

After such an emotional day, seeing Catherine is a welcome relief.

"This is a monument day for you, Liv, I couldn't resist popping in to see how everything was going," Catherine explains warmly, pulling back with a smile on her face.

"I didn't ruin it," Liv whispers breathlessly, the words spilling out, unable to stop the tears of relief from sliding down her face, "I didn't ruin everything with him, I think we're going to be okay."

Catherine is accustomed to sudden bursts of emotion from her patients, she's seen it over and over again in people who are initially closed off. As soon as she earns their trust, helps them access their feelings, and gives them a safe place to express themselves, they often can't contain it anymore.

She affectionately tucks a few of Liv's curls behind her ear, cupping her cheek. "Oh, honey, of course you didn't. We talked about that, you tried to let go of that fear. You were still carrying it around, weren't you?"

Olivia nods, wiping at the tears on her face. "I was. I tried, but, it was in the back of my mind all night. He's just so important to me—"

"I know he is," she soothes, "And you know what? Sometimes it's okay to hang on to a little bit of fear, why is that?"

"Because it means you have something to lose, or something to hope for," Liv murmurs, taking a calming breath, "And that's all part of the human experience."

"That's right. Did you share with him that you were scared?"

"I did," she breathes, "And he was so…supportive, and he _listened_ to me—actually as I was talking to him, I realized that he's always been a good listener, I just wasn't talking before, I never gave him the chance."

"So there was talking that happened? Before all of the kissing that I just interrupted?"

Olivia blushes at Catherine's teasing words. "Yes, there was a lot of talking that happened, I promise. But I've told you before, we have a difficult time controlling ourselves."

"We should all be so lucky to meet someone we have that kind of chemistry with. I mean, just between the two of us, I don't blame you, that man is gorge—"

"Okay, what is it with all of you?" Olivia laughs, "Between Nat and Anna ogling him earlier and now you, he's not going to want to come back here!"

Catherine laughs, picturing that encounter. "Of _course_ he met your partners in crime, I'm sure they were on their best behavior."

"They were _very_ embarrassing. Those two, I swear."

"Olivia, I'm so proud of you," Catherine says softly, "This is a big step."

"It feels like the right thing. It's just… _right_ , he's _right_ for me, we're so good together," she breathes, both hands resting on her diaphragm.

Catherine nods along as she talks. "Follow your instincts. You have incredible instincts, Olivia, just trust yourself."

She looks over Olivia's shoulder at Fitz, who is eyeing them curiously.

"So, can I meet him?"

Olivia smiles and links her arm with Catherine's, leading her toward Fitz.

"I would love for you to meet him, and I know he would love it too."

* * *

 **A/N: I realized as I was writing that I'm totally picturing Debbie Allen as Catherine. What do you guys think?! I myself am ALL FOR Liv in therapy!**


	16. Respite

**A/N: This is a short post-ep for 5x19, it takes place about a week later. I just needed to give Liv a metaphorical hug.**

* * *

The whole thing is Quinn's idea.

It's not an intervention, per se, it's more like a check-in, to get an idea of how bad things really are. They've all been worried about her, and things only seem to be getting worse, not better. So, Quinn and Abby spend an hour on the phone in the middle of the night, coming up with a plan.

They quickly realize that if they want to get any real sense of how Olivia is doing, they need her to be honest, which is no easy task. Her guard is up these days, way up, so up that there's no way she's going to talk to anyone about how she's feeling, which means they need to enlist the help of someone who can really read her. There's only one person who can do that, one person who really _knows_ her, one person who can see past the walls she's put up.

Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, Fitz agrees immediately. He's been worried sick about her ever since that night in the bunker, and the one time he'd been able to see her with his own eyes hadn't assuaged his worries in the slightest. She is "missing", as Mellie had described, she's not the Liv he knows, the woman he'd fallen in love with. He's desperate to know if that woman is gone forever, or if she's hiding somewhere, waiting for some of the trauma to pass, waiting until she feels safe.

They set it up under the guise of having Olivia look over his campaign speeches. Now that he's endorsing Mellie as the Republican nominee in the general election, he'll be making a few campaign stops on her behalf and Liv needs final approval on his remarks. Abby sets up the meeting, noting that Liv doesn't _seem_ suspicious that they've offered to come to her office, that nothing _seems_ awry.

It's a warm night, so he shows up in a black polo shirt paired with khakis, and she curses him because he looks so good in casual wear.

"Where is Abby?" she asks immediately, watching as the Secret Service sweep her office before settling into their usual posts out in the conference room.

He sets his briefcase on her table, pulling out his speech drafts. "Abby has the flu."

She narrows her eyes at him, watching him spread papers over the table, getting set up.

"Just like that? She has the flu? I just talked to her yesterday morning."

"Well, I don't really know how long she's been feeling sick, but she called this morning and said she could barely get out of bed. So, I told her you and I could handle going over these, it's nothing we haven't done before, right?"

He tries not to blink as she stares him down, clearly trying to figure out if he's lying or not.

"Fine," she shrugs, finally, "Let's get started."

He can't tell if she believes him or not, but they settle around the table, picking through the remarks that have already been written for him and determining which stops he still needs a speech for. Campaigns are tricky that way, because the same media outlets cover each stop, he can't really make the same speech twice.

He's always liked this part, speech writing, especially working with Liv. They'd spent so many nights working late during his campaign, proofreading and nit-picking over split infinitives. So far, it seems to be going alright, she's being civil at the very least, keeping things professional. Until he spends one second too long staring at the dark circles beneath her eyes, looking at the fit of her clothes to try and figure out if she's been eating.

"Stop looking at me."

Her eyes are on the paper in front of her, voice quiet but cold, detached and dangerous. He looks down immediately, kicking himself for letting her catch him.

"I wasn't—"

"You're looking at me, stop it. Do you think I don't know what this is?" she asks, standing up to address him.

Fitz sets the speeches down, sighing and leaning back against the couch.

 _Here we go_

"They sent you in here, like some kind of operative, to get a read on me. They think I've gone over the edge, that I'm— _crazy_ or something. And they sent you in here to stare at me, like you can read my mind, and then report back. So what do you think, Fitz? Have I lost it? Am I over the edge?"

He doesn't say anything, keeping his expression carefully neutral. She can read him too, and if there's an ounce of pity in his eyes, she'll see it.

"No? Nothing to say? Let me help you out, then. I'm. _Fine_. I'm free. I'm thinking more clearly than I have in a year, and I feel better than I have in a decade. I'm not crazy. I'm not over the edge, I'm not in a dark place, my 'guy' is not out. I'm _fine_."

"Okay," he says gently, hoping to get her to stop ranting.

If there's one thing he knows for sure in this world, at this very moment, it's that Olivia Pope is most certainly not _fine_. She's defensive beyond anything he's ever seen before, and coming at her in any kind of direct way is going to result in her kicking him out.

She's stopped pacing, standing with her hands on her hips. "Okay? That's it?"

"That's it," he says with finality, determined not to push her, "You're right. They did send me here to check on you, to see how you were doing."

"I know they did."

There's an edge to his voice when he speaks again. "Can you blame them? Your people, and Abby? For worrying?"

She doesn't say anything, looking away from him.

"Look, Liv, I didn't come here to stage some kind of intervention, alright? I came to see with my own eyes how you were doing, and if you say you're okay, then I believe you. And I really did come here to work on these," he says, gesturing to the speeches, "I _like_ writing speeches with you. You're good at it, _we're_ good at it. I didn't appoint you Communications Director because I was in love with you, I have a lot of respect for your work, I always have, you know that."

 _Was_. The burn of sadness that creeps over her at that is unexpected. Whether he meant to insinuate that his love for her is a thing of the past or not, it stings.

Somewhat reluctantly, she looks at him, immediately noting that he looks sincere. And, really, he hasn't done anything wrong. Suddenly, she's regretting jumping down his throat like that, as if he's conspired against her frequently enough to deserve it. After everything they've been through together, the hurt inflicted from _both_ sides, why is she acting like he's the enemy? What is wrong with her? What's become of them?

He watches her eyes soften slightly, hope rising in him that they might be able to continue, that he might get the chance to keep an eye on her for a few more hours. Despite what he's told her, he _knows_ she's not okay, and he suspects that she's lying to herself just as badly as she's lying to him. She's quiet now, staring at the floor, nodding her head ever so slightly.

"Okay," she whispers, still refusing to look at him.

"Okay?" he asks hesitantly, needing to make sure he's heard her correctly.

Finally, she looks up at him, the smallest chink in her armor showing, the smallest hint of the woman he knows shining through. "Can we just work?"

He focuses on the tiny part of her that he recognizes behind her eyes, trying to coax more of it out of her with a reassuring smile.

"May as well get the Colorado speech locked first," he suggests, "That's a big one."

She nods, sinking down onto the opposite end of the couch.

The two of them work for hours, and for a while it's easy to forget what year it is. It almost feels like the old days, and they let themselves suspend reality briefly, getting lost in the easy rhythm they have when they work together. They work their way through speech after speech, tossing ideas back and forth, reading things out loud, bantering a little bit. They order take-out at one point and he's delighted to see her eating, not finishing nearly as much of her lo mein as he knows she should, but eating all the same.

He notices the exhaustion when they have three speeches to go. It's only about nine o'clock in the evening, but she's holding back yawns and her eyes are heavy, as if she hasn't slept in weeks. She's relaxed some over the course of the last few hours and he decides to take a chance, decides that the benefits of helping her outweigh the risk of upsetting her.

"Why don't you close your eyes for a few minutes?" he murmurs, casually.

"I'm fine," she lies, not even looking up at him.

"I know you are, I know you're fine," he soothes, very careful not to patronize her, "I'm not suggesting it because I think you aren't fine. I'm suggesting it because you're running yourself into the ground with this campaign, and it's perfectly normal for you to be stressed out. Running a campaign is exhausting, and you seem tired."

The deep, soothing baritone of his voice is so undeniably comforting and familiar that just listening to him talk is making her tired. He's so warm next to her, he's always so warm, and she can't deny that his nearness is relaxing. And she is exhausted. She can't remember the last time she'd gotten more than a couple hours of light, broken sleep, plagued by nightmares. Mentally, physically, she's completely spent, and lying to him is taking more out of her than she has to give, at this point.

"Hey. Look at me."

Slowly, reluctantly, she meets his eyes, and the tenderness she sees there takes her breath away, makes her feel uncomfortably vulnerable. He may have been part of some larger plan initially, but looking at him now there's no doubt that he still cares about her, that he still has her best interests at heart.

"I'm not saying you aren't fine. I'm saying it's just you and me, right now. We're the only ones here. You don't have to be Olivia Pope, D.C. Fixer, and I don't have to be President Fitzgerald Grant, right now. We can be Liv and Fitz, for a little while, if you want. You can take that armor off, you can put your sword down."

She knows exactly what he's offering her, and every instinct she has is screaming that she should take it. After everything, she still trusts him, she still feels safe with him. He knows as well as she does that she sleeps better when he's next to her, that sometimes it's the _only_ way she can sleep. She can almost feel her heavy limbs gravitating toward him against her will, desperate for rest. But if she lets her guard down too far, if she loosens the reins too much, everything could come crashing to pieces around her. She could completely crumble and she can't have that, she's not equipped for that.

In an instant, her beautiful eyes are huge and open, swimming with tears, full of so much pain his breath catches. For just a moment, she lets him in, lets him see how badly she's struggling. He can immediately see how tenuous her grip on composure is, that behind her brick firewall, she's barely holding herself together with the equivalent of tape, and glue. She's so fragile that she _can't_ face anything yet, her mind simply won't allow it. Her chin trembles and she shakes her head, trying to indicate that she _can't_ talk about it.

They stare at each other, speaking without words. She knows that he sees her, understands everything that she can't say.

"I can't—"

"I know, it's okay, I'm not asking you to do that," he reassures her softly, his hand sliding over to cover hers before he can think twice about it.

She startles when he touches her but she lets him, squeezes his hand back tightly, clinging to the connection.

"I'm just…I'm offering you sleep," he shrugs, smiling sadly, eyes soft and kind, "If you want. No one's here to see, I'm not going to tell anyone, it's—if you want, you can close your eyes for a few minutes. I'll be here."

He leans back into the couch, pulling his hand out of her grip in the process, opening his arm to create the cozy pocket of space against his side that she loves so much. She's fighting with herself, he can see it happening as her eyes trace his chest, part of her desperately wanting to be in his arms, part of her arguing against it.

In the end, she meets his eyes again and her decision is written all over her face. She's allowed the exhaustion to overwhelm her instead of pushing it back, and she looks so incredibly weary. He gently pats his shoulder encouragingly, and she comes to him, toeing her shoes off and tucking her legs against his thigh. She fits herself against his side, laying her head on his chest with a deep exhale, her eyes already drifting shut.

He feels so good that she knows, if she weren't so drained, just being in his arms would make her completely break down. Even now, she can't help but cry a little bit out of sheer exhaustion and relief.

Her breath hitches a few times and that wasn't his intention at all, he just wants her to relax, to sleep.

"Shh, c'mere," he whispers, pulling her further into him, wrapping his arms around her more securely.

Her breathing slows, the wave of tears giving way to that intense need to sleep. She nuzzles her cheek against his shirt, breathing him in, tentatively letting her arm drape across his stomach. It feels like just minutes before her body grows heavy against him, her breathing deep and even as she starts to drift off. Instinctively, he presses his nose into her hair, realizing afterward that he maybe shouldn't, but she hums contentedly, welcoming the contact. Holding her like this feels so right, so normal, and he lets himself get swept up in the feeling.

The next thing he knows, he's blinking his eyes open against the sun.

It's morning.

Liv is still sound asleep in his arms and it's morning, they've slept on the couch in her office all night long. Careful not to wake her, he stretches his neck and looks through the glass into the conference room, immediately noting that Secret Service has rotated, different agents now posted.

Her associates are all at the long table, working quietly, and Quinn glances up, noticing that he's awake. She makes no move to interrupt, giving him a small smile and a slight nod of approval. She says something to the others at the table, Huck and…Marcus, he's pretty sure, and the three of them leave the room, making sure that Liv will have privacy when she wakes up.

Fitz has no intention of waking her, glancing down to see her face still relaxed in sleep. He'll hold her as long as she wants, as long as she needs the respite. This is what he can do for her right now, and it's something small, but it's something.

It's a start.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you so much for reading, reviews are always appreciated!**


	17. The Firsts: IV

**A/N: Just a short one this time! I've started to label these with Micah's age in the title, just so everyone knows where we're at. I'll likely jump around in time as I get ideas. This is a FLUFFY series, fair warning!**

* * *

 _ **The First Mother's Day - 11 Months**_

She's starting to rouse, hovering in that nice place between sleep and wakefulness where she's aware that it's Sunday, that no one is waiting on her at the office. She has no idea what time it is, only that the sun is high and bright against her eyelids so it's not an ungodly hour of the morning. Sliding a hand out, she reaches for Fitz but he isn't there, which is a little odd given that she normally wakes up first, her ears fine-tuned to the sound of Micah's hungry morning whines.

The sound of the bedroom door opening breaks her train of thought. Liv smiles as she hears quick, excited breathing, followed by a soft thump against the comforter and the feeling of a tiny body crawling up the bed.

"Ma-ma-ma-ma."

She rolls over just in time to come face-to-face with her favorite pair of chocolate brown eyes, stretching and laughing as little hands land on her shoulder for leverage.

"Ma-ma-ma!" Micah babbles, pushing down on her shoulder to get right in her face.

"Good morning to you, too," she giggles, freeing her arms from the blankets and grabbing her son, rolling and gently toppling him into the pillows to make him laugh.

She kisses his face and neck repeatedly as she scoots up into a reclining position, inciting more laughter.

"I held him back as long as I could," Fitz sighs, climbing back into bed, "We tried some bananas, and some oatmeal, but he's a guy who knows what he wants."

Micah sits up and starts to open and close his fists, signing 'milk', simultaneously flopping into her arms and pulling at her pajama top. Fitz chuckles, picking up his phone to check his email.

"Subtle, isn't he?" she jokes, pulling her top up and unclipping the soft nursing bra she usually sleeps in, exposing her breast to her son's questing mouth.

She pulls her knees up as Micah latches on, effectively boxing him in so that he can't wiggle around too much. Nursing is second nature to them now, but her eleven month-old is significantly more mobile and more easily distracted than he was as an infant.

His hand comes up as he suckles contentedly, grabbing and kneading at her breast, reaching for her face. Liv takes his hand and pretends to nibble at his fingers, kissing his tiny palm as he smiles up at her, pausing momentarily. He's quick to go back to eating, needing his morning nursing session for comfort as much as nourishment, counting on it as part of his routine.

She realizes her breasts are uncomfortably full, finally looking over at the clock. "How come you let me sleep so late? He's been up for over two hours, hasn't he?"

"You needed it," Fitz says simply, putting his phone back on the nightstand and rolling over to face them, "And you deserve it."

Liv reaches over and runs her hand through his hair, smiling at him.

"You should go get a haircut today, mister," she comments through a yawn, still playing with his curls, "I like it long but it's getting a little unruly."

"Actually, I thought we'd go out for brunch, I made a reservation," he says nonchalantly, as if it's something they do every Sunday.

Her eyebrows raise in surprise. "Really?"

"I mean, unless you want to do something else, it's your day, after all."

Now she's confused, brows furrowing. "What do you mean, it's 'my day'?"

He stares at her for a second, trying to figure out if she's messing with him.

"Livvie, it's Mother's Day."

She gives him a blank look. "It is?"

"Yes," he laughs, "How could you not remember?"

"I don't know," she says, smiling sheepishly, "Maybe because I haven't celebrated Mother's Day since I was about eight years old—hey, don't fall asleep."

She's talking to Micah now, who is dozing off at her breast, and she rubs his belly to try and keep him awake. Their nursing session is lulling him into an early mid-morning nap, something that sometimes happens on the weekends when they're lazing around.

"Here, pumpkin," she murmurs, quickly maneuvering him to her other breast, "Even me out a little bit and then you can sleep, okay? There we go."

The baby resumes nursing with gusto, blinking up at her with sleepy eyes. He'll probably eat just enough to make her more comfortable and she'll have to pump the rest after he falls asleep, a full tummy guaranteed to knock him out.

Settling back down with a sigh she turns to look at Fitz, who is watching her tenderly.

"So…we're celebrating Mother's Day?"

"Only if you want to, Liv," he says softly, "I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it first, I just thought—"

Her eyes widen quickly, because he's apologizing for doing something so sweet. "No, baby, it's—thank you, brunch sounds nice. It just caught me off guard, that's all. I don't…I guess I just feel a little silly being thanked."

"Why?" he asks, curiously, "Most moms _love_ it."

"I don't know, maybe in a few years when I'm more frazzled I'll appreciate it but right now…I feel like I should be thanking _him_."

She smoothes Micah's curls, noticing that his eyes are drooping shut. Her nipple lolls from his mouth after a few minutes and she pulls her top down, scooting under the covers with him. He stays close, cuddling up to her as he falls asleep, grabbing a handful of her pajamas to make sure she's not going anywhere. Micah sleeps just fine in his crib, but he's a snuggler, and if he senses he might have the opportunity to sleep near his mama he takes full advantage.

"He makes me so happy," Liv admits, quietly, "I love being his mom. Between the two of you—I never knew a person could feel happiness like this. I wasn't even looking for it, I didn't know I was missing it, I'd just never felt it before. I don't mean to be cliché, or anything like that but…it feels like a gift already, honestly, I think that's why it feels weird for you guys to thank _me_."

Fitz has to kiss her, leaning over their son to do so, because she's never told him any of that. He knows she's happy, but hearing her put it that way makes his heart burst.

"Well, I'll speak on behalf of both of us and say the feeling is mutual," he murmurs, glancing down at Micah's sleeping face, "Maybe you shouldn't think of it as us thanking you. We can say we're celebrating you instead, how about that?"

"Okay," she shrugs, smiling at him, "I think I can live with that."

They relax in comfortable silence, and she's contemplating trying to talk him into taking a nap too when he speaks again.

"So, can we still do brunch? Because I hear this place has a ridiculous smoked salmon spread…"

She laughs, scooping Micah closer as he rolls toward her in his sleep. "No wonder this one is so obsessed with food, he clearly gets it from you."

"He's obsessed with food because he's a mama's boy, through and through," Fitz teases, gesturing to the way Micah's gravitated toward her, sound asleep with his face nuzzled into her chest.

"Are you saying there's something wrong with that?" she challenges playfully, leaning down to kiss her baby's forehead, "Pretty soon he won't be a baby anymore, he probably won't want to cuddle with me, I need to encourage it while I can."

Fitz watches her hold their son close, thinking about how far she's come, how sometimes he still can't believe this is their life.

"Not a thing wrong with it, Livvie, not a thing."

* * *

 **I love feedback so let me know what you think! Thanks for reading 3**


	18. I Just Called To Say: I

**A/N: This takes place post-5x21. Since I've hashed out a lot of Olitz's issues in Madness already, I wanted to try something different here and just do snippets of conversation over the phone, which I think is how they communicate best. The conversations take place over the course of a couple months, but I didn't do a specific timeline. I also borrowed Ben from Madness :-)**

* * *

She can't stop thinking about their conversation.

Liv pours herself a third glass of wine and settles back into the sofa, propping her head up on her fist, letting the rich liquid progressively dull her senses.

As a rule, she doesn't let herself think about him. Not since the breakup, not since…everything that's happened since that night. When she thinks about him she can't help but feel things, and that's not something she allows herself to do anymore. But right now, she can't stop thinking about him.

Their conversation today was unexpected.

 _I miss you._

Those words made her heart fly into her throat, took her breath away. Those words in _that_ voice, even though he'd backpedaled a bit after he'd said it, suddenly made everything feel so close, so intimate. She can't hide from him when he looks at her like that, his face so open and soft, and she has _so much_ to hide now. She can't handle the way he strips her bare with one look, it's too much, it's so much that she can barely maintain eye contact with him now.

 _Do you think I listened to you enough?_

In the moment, she'd shrugged his question off, giving a flippant response to encourage light banter instead of the serious conversation he'd wanted to have. But she's thinking about it now, turning the question over in her mind. The truth is, she _hadn't_ felt heard in the White House. She'd felt like she was screaming at the top of her lungs that she was suffocating, that the walls were closing in, that she wanted _him_ but they were getting lost because she didn't want any of _it_. Her screams had fallen on deaf ears. Or they hadn't been loud enough, she's not sure who is more at fault.

 _I'm sorry I didn't listen more_

The apology was nice, in retrospect. She hadn't been able to really absorb it sitting there in front of him, but when she thinks about it now, it's a nice gesture. When he stopped listening, when he stopped seeing her, it had hurt her more deeply than words ever could. Although his epiphany is puzzling, she finds that it's not too little too late for her to hear those words. It's validating for her to hear him admit that he didn't always consider her feelings, _really_ consider her feelings, before he steamrolled forward with whatever step he was planning.

 _I am sorry_

What's haunting her the most is the silence, all the things he wasn't saying. When she lets herself go back to that moment, to really drown in his eyes, she can see the unspoken regret there. There's no anger, no closure, just regret, and a tiny hint of longing. She knows he was admitting that he's sorry things ended the way they did, that he's sorry they aren't together, that he still misses her.

Her truest, most honest self misses him too. She has to pull back a lot of layers to access that part of herself, but she can still do it, and deep down she misses him too. They've never been this out of touch with one another, and when she steps back and looks at her life now, it's almost as if her whole world has tilted an extra ten degrees on it's axis. They've gone months without talking before but never like this, it's never been so final, so formal between them for so long. She feels like maybe the universe is punishing her for upsetting the balance, for severing whatever invisible ties bind her to Fitz and keep them in proper orbit.

She's falling down the rabbit hole and, for once, she lets herself go, taking a long sip of wine.

Feeling that connection again today has made her painfully aware of it's absence over the past several months.

He grounds her in an unexplainable, imperceptible way. His friendship, his companionship, his love, it's undeniably _real_ , and without realizing it she's grown used to anchoring herself in that feeling. It's the one feeling she knows is tangible, authentic, and without it as a reference point she's adrift. She can't tell what's real and what isn't, her internal compass is off, her ability to read people is affected. The very ground beneath her feet has shifted and she can't seem to get her balance back.

Her relationship with Fitz is the only example she's ever had of what unconditional love looks like, and it simultaneously terrifies her, confuses her, and comforts her. She doesn't know how to accept it or return it, she just knows that it _is_. It's the only thing she knows anymore. His smile, the low timbre of his voice, the familiar scent of his light, musky cologne, it's all a constant for her. He never changes, he's always there, he always seems to be waiting for her with open arms no matter how much she's hurt him.

Suddenly she's desperate to talk to him again.

Maybe it's the wine, maybe it's the fact that she saw him less than twelve hours ago, maybe it's that she's finally admitted to herself that she misses talking to him and listening to him, too. Maybe it's because when she's talking to him, she can forget how fucked up everything else is, but whatever it is, she _really_ wants to hear his voice again. Judging by their conversation today, it isn't too late to extend an olive branch, to try and salvage what's left of their friendship. His easy smile, the way he'd tried to make her laugh…maybe they've gained enough distance from all of the hurt that friendship might be possible.

It's late, but she dials the direct extension to his secretary, a number she knows by heart.

No answer.

Of course he's not in the oval, it's nearly midnight. He's probably asleep, he's not expecting her call. What if he has Teddy tonight? What if he's _with_ someone?

She realizes with mild horror that there is no direct extension to the residence, not from outside the White House. Her Fitz Phone is long gone, and she has no way to get in touch with him.

Unless…

She scrolls through her address book and hovers over the number, debating whether or not to call. What if he's not on duty?

Before she can think too much about it she presses the number, leaning forward on the sofa. It rings three times, four times…

"This is Benjamin Hathaway."

Ben answers cautiously, obviously suspicious of the unknown caller.

"Ben? It's Olivia Pope."

Silence. Ben had been the head of her secret service detail in the White House, so she knows that he knows who she is, he's just rightfully shocked by her call.

"Ms. Pope…I—hello, how are you?"

"I'm sorry to call you like this, I know it's late."

"Not a problem, ma'am, what can I help you with? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I'm not in any kind of trouble. I'm actually trying to get in touch with the President."

"Right now, ma'am?"

"I'm—I was wondering if there was any way that you could get a message to him for me."

"I'm not on duty, Ms. Pope."

"Oh," she breathes, crestfallen, "Of course, that's—"

"But I can try to get in touch with someone who is. If I can get a hold of someone—your number hasn't changed? I can have them tell him to call you?"

"Yes," she says quickly, relief flooding her, "He'll know where to contact me. Ben, thank you so much."

They end the call and she waits, hoping that Ben will be able to deliver, hoping that Fitz wants to talk to her as much as she wants to talk to him. Ben might be able to get him the message, but it's up to him to actually—

Her land line starts ringing, and her pulse speeds up.

She picks up the phone and offers him that olive branch in the most obvious way she knows how.

"Hi."

Liv hears his breath catch. He wasn't expecting to talk to her tonight, let alone a phone call that's starting out so normally.

"Hi," he breathes, recovering enough to answer her, "I hear someone's been trying to reach me."

She smiles, relieved that his calm, playful tone from earlier is still there. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't—you weren't in the oval and I—is this a bad time?"

"Nope," he sighs, "I just stopped working, actually, I brought everything over here tonight. I have Teddy this weekend and I wanted to do story time earlier."

She can't help but smile again at the image.

"Good," she says softly, "I'm glad everything's still working out with, you know, all of that. The co-parenting."

The line goes quiet for three seconds, five seconds…

"Did you need to talk about the campaign? I haven't had time to re-draft my speech yet."

Right. He has no idea why she's been calling his entire staff trying to get a hold of him at eleven-thirty at night.

"No, I wasn't calling about that, take your time with the speech. I—I just called to say—"

Shit.

She hadn't quite gotten this far. Expressing her feelings is not her strong suit, even less so when it comes to him.

Fitz breaks the silence. "It was nice to see you earlier. A nice surprise."

He's giving her a moment to collect herself, and it makes her want to cry. She's been so terrible to him and he's still able to be sweet to her.

"It was. I think—we're at that place. Don't you think? The place where when we see each other it's…nice? Not awkward?"

"We are, I like it. I hate being at odds with you, you know that."

"Fitz, I—I was thinking about what you said, your apology."

"I know I caught you off guard, I could tell. I didn't mean to."

"No, it wasn't—you did, but it's okay. I wanted to tell you that I—" she takes a deep breath, " I appreciate it, your apology. I didn't say anything after you said it, and I wanted you to know, I appreciate it."

"Okay," he breathes, relief evident in his voice, "Good."

She exhales, relieved to have gotten the words out.

"I should let you go, it's late."

"Listen, Liv, we can make it easier for us to get in touch with each other, if you want. If you think it would be beneficial, you know, because of the campaign."

He's talking about opening the lines of communication between them again, and she knows full well it's not just because of the campaign.

"Right, the campaign. It might not be a bad idea," she agrees, playing along, keeping her tone light, "We'll probably need to talk again soon. To discuss your speech."

"Exactly. I'll talk to secret service in the morning about it."

"Great," she says softly, "I'll talk to you soon, then."

"Hey, Liv?"

"What?"

"Thanks for calling."

She smiles in spite of herself.

"Goodnight, Fitz."

* * *

"Fitz, this convention speech is almost perfect."

"Ah, almost being the key word," he chuckles.

"Really, it's almost there, I just have a couple suggestions."

"You do realize that three of the best speech writers in the White House already went over it, right?"

She smirks, pulling up her notes on his speech. "If you didn't want my opinion, you wouldn't have emailed it to me before you sent it out to Abby and Mellie."

She's right. He _does_ want to know what she thinks, he's just testing her, seeing how much he can get away with.

He smiles. "Tell me what you think."

* * *

"What do you mean, you don't think we'll win Colorado?" she exclaims, re-adjusting the phone against her ear.

"I'm just saying, the polls haven't really been looking too promising, she's actually _down_ with women in Colorado."

"Listen, mister, I don't know what polls you've been looking at but we're polling just fine with women."

"I happen to get my polling information from very reputable sources, I'll have you know."

"Yeah, _me_. And I'm telling you we're going to win Colorado in the general."

"Liv, it's okay to admit that you might have dropped the ball for a second, there's no shame in it."

"There has been no dropping of balls over here!" she laughs, letting him continue to tease her, "Again, I don't know what you've heard but you need to get your facts straight."

He grins, knowing exactly how to push her buttons. "I just heard that you were down by more than a few points last week, that's all."

"So what if we were? I seem to remember a certain president of the same last name who was down in several states during his second-term election. I helped _you_ win Colorado, didn't I?"

"You did," he concedes, "You've got me there, you did."

* * *

"What is that noise?"

"What noise?"

"You're chewing in my ear, are you eating popcorn _again_?"

"Popcorn is my dinner of choice, you know that, can we focus on the schedule please?"

"Liv, you should eat actual food."

"I have been! I've been eating way too much Gettysburger at the office lately, I need to get back on my popcorn diet. I'm getting fat."

"Oh, please," he scoffs, "I _highly_ doubt that."

"You haven't even seen me lately, how would you know?"

"I'm sure you're beautiful, as always."

It just slips out, and he freezes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"It's fine," she says, softly, automatically fussing with her hair as if he can see her, "You didn't mean it."

"Oh, I meant it," he corrects her, feeling bold, "I just didn't mean to say it out loud."

"Fitz—"

"Relax. What's a compliment between friends? We are friends, aren't we?"

She rolls her eyes, smirking. " _Yes_ , we're friends."

* * *

They've been drinking.

They were bound to end up tipsy on the phone together sooner or later, they're both extremely fond of a drink at the end of the workday.

After having a heated discussion about whether Vargas' newest ad constitutes mudslinging for the better part of the last hour, their conversation has gotten softer, quieter, more intimate. He tells her about his tentative plans to move to Virginia in January, that he wants to stay close for Teddy's sake. Even if Mellie loses she'll still be a senator, and he wants the little boy to see both of his parents as regularly as possible. Eventually they slip into comfortable silence, both lost in thought.

"Do you remember the day I came to your office? To tell you about Jake being Mellie's running mate?" she asks, her voice soft and drowsy.

"Sure. Why?"

"You asked me if I thought you listened to me enough. When I was talking."

She hasn't actually asked him a question so he doesn't say anything right away, surprised that she's even brought this up.

After a moment he realizes she's waiting for him to answer her. "I remember."

"I didn't," she says softly, "I didn't feel like you were listening to me."

He'd suspected that was how she really felt, that he'd gotten so wrapped up in the joy of finally being with her that he'd almost taken their relationship for granted. He'd forgotten that they needed to work at it, that communication was going to be essential.

"Liv, I—"

"But," she interrupts, quietly "I wasn't talking very much. You couldn't have listened to the things I wasn't saying."

He's shocked into silence, surprised that she's not only brought up their relationship, but that she's being so candid with him. Although, they've had some of their _most_ candid conversations over the phone. Not being right in front of him seems to help her open up, she's able to express herself a little better.

Fitz chances a question, hoping she feels secure enough to answer. "What weren't you saying?"

She sighs, and he hears her swallow a sip of wine, hears her take a couple breaths as if she's going to start speaking and then isn't ready. Finally, her response comes.

"I felt like you didn't hear what I was saying after you proposed. It wasn't that I didn't want to marry you…"

* * *

"Liv, you should have told me about your father."

"You wouldn't have agreed to it."

"No, I wouldn't have! That's the point!"

"The point is, I saved your presidency!"

"That is _not_ the point. The point is, you started lying to me, that was the first lie."

"I thought I was protecting you!"

"I didn't need you to protect me! We were supposed to be in it together! You went behind my back, and—"

Olivia feels her heart rate slow when he stops yelling.

This is exactly what they'd promised each other they wouldn't do. They'd promised, no more yelling. They'd promised to talk everything out, for the good of their friendship, but no more yelling.

He takes a deep breath, re-grouping. "I'm shouting at you. I'm sorry."

"I was doing it too," she sighs, "But we're—we caught ourselves, that's progress, right?"

"Right."

* * *

Her hands are shaking tonight as she waits for the phone to ring.

It's not that she's ashamed. She's not ashamed of what she did, she wasn't ashamed then and she still isn't. She just can't believe that he's known this whole time and hasn't said anything to her, _that's_ the part that's making her nervous. They've been talking for months and, clearly, he has no intention of bringing it up.

She could just let it go, pretend it never happened. But they'd promised, _everything_ out in the open, and if he's not going to bring it up then it's up to her.

They talk for a few minutes before he asks her what's wrong, picking up on her anxious energy even over the phone.

"I talked to Abby today."

He's perplexed by her response. "Did it not go well? I thought you two were on friendly terms again?"

"She told me that you found my medical records."

* * *

 **A/N: I have about half of Part II written already, so it will go up within the next few days! It will include The Abortion Conversation and a healthy dose of smut ;-)**


	19. I Just Called To Say: II

**A/N: Here is part two! I was a bit nervous writing about the abortion but I think it came out alright. Also, I haven't written smut in a while so I kind of went for it, I figured no one would mind ;-) Enjoy!**

* * *

"She told me that you found my medical records."

Immediately, his heart starts to race. He's not sure he's ready to have this conversation with her.

"Are you still there?"

He realizes he's been silent for almost a full minute, completely caught off guard.

"I'm here. I just—I'm not sure what you want me to say."

"Why haven't you said anything? You've known this whole time, and I thought if you ever found out—I thought you would be so angry, that you'd hate me."

"Livvie, I _never_ hated you," he breathes, shocked that she would think that.

He's feeling tender toward her and the nickname automatically rolls off his tongue.

"Really?" she asks, her voice quiet and small.

"Of course not. When I found out, I guess I was angry, but mostly I was just in shock. I was in shock that you—that you did that, and even more shocked that you felt like you couldn't tell me."

 _Shocked that you aborted our baby without telling me_

He can't say the actual words, and he doesn't care what that says about him. Even though he supports her choice, her _right_ , it still makes him a bit sick to his stomach.

"If I had told you, you would've tried to talk me out of it, and I would have let you."

Every word that comes out of her mouth solidifies for him how badly their communication had collapsed at the end.

He takes a second, trying to decide how to approach her. "First of all, I wouldn't have tried to talk you out of it."

"How do you know that? We could barely talk to each other at that point, let alone _listen_ to each other. I knew if I told you, you'd be so happy, and it would overshadow the fact that I wasn't. You weren't listening to me."

"Of course I would've been happy! That was part of the dream, Liv! Every time we talked about Vermont, we talked about kids. That's why I—when I asked you if you thought I listened to you enough—when I found out my first thought was, ' _how did I miss the fact that she doesn't actually want kids?_ '. How could I possibly have missed that? I thought, you must have really not wanted them to go and do this behind my back, and I completely missed it."

Her eyes close and her brow furrows as she listens to him, trying to hear him and figure out how to navigate the next part of the conversation.

"You didn't miss it," she says softly, trying to collect her thoughts, "It…it always felt so far away, being together for real, being away from D.C. And then all of a sudden we _were_ together, but it wasn't the way I thought it would be, we were just falling apart, everything was falling apart, and I didn't know how to fix it. And then I realized I was pregnant…and it just felt so wrong, I couldn't imagine—"

She breaks off, feeling like she's not making any sense.

"Did you even consider keeping it?" he asks, quietly.

It's not a very productive question but he asks anyway, needing an answer, needing to understand her thought process better.

"No," she answers honestly, "I—I just—"

He can hear her getting frustrated, and he can picture her fidgeting on the couch. "Take your time," he reminds her, gently.

Olivia takes a deep breath, trying to make her head stop spinning.

 _Just be honest, just tell the truth_

"I was always scared of having kids. I never seriously considered it until we started talking about it, fantasizing about it," she admits, picking imaginary lint from her leggings, "Thinking about kids with you, I was still afraid, but I knew you'd have my back. I knew I wouldn't be the best at it, but you're a great father and you'd make up for whatever I lacked. I knew I could have kids with _you_ , with you next to me it wouldn't be so scary. But, I didn't feel like you had my back anymore, and I panicked. I wasn't ready, we weren't ready, as far as I could tell we'd _never_ be ready. So, I made a choice."

He knows she would make an incredible mom, but he mentally shelves that conversation for another day.

"Liv, I respect your choice. I do, I would never tell you what to do with your body. But I wish you would've told me. Before, or even afterward, I'm sorry I made you feel like you couldn't. If you'd said something, maybe it would have gotten us talking, maybe we wouldn't have—"

 _Maybe we wouldn't have broken up_

The silver lining to this messy conversation is that she's realized she can hear what he isn't saying now, loud and clear. She's starting to feel like she's in sync with him again, and it settles something inside her.

"You can't blame me for the fact that we broke up," she asserts quietly, knowing he probably didn't mean it that way but pointing out how he's making her feel.

"I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry. I just—I really wish you would have told me yourself."

He doesn't sound accusatory, he sounds hurt, and she knows what she needs to say to him.

"I'm not ashamed, and I don't regret the choice I made. But I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Fitz. I—it was selfish of me to keep it a secret, I should have told you. After everything we've been through…I owed you that much."

They lapse into silence as he absorbs her apology, both reflecting on the difficult conversation they've just had.

"It wasn't a fantasy to me. It was something we were working toward. Was it really that far away for you, Liv? Did you even want it?"

Olivia thinks carefully before she answers. "I don't know if I did, to be honest. I wanted _you_. And the idea of getting to be with you like that...it was nice, comforting."

"But…"

She sighs. "Leaving D.C.? Leaving OPA? Can you really picture me living in rural Vermont?"

"It never had to be all or nothing. We could have split our time, lived here and there, whatever you needed."

"That's not how we always talked about it—"

"Because you never said anything. You never talked to me about what you really wanted."

"I'm not the best when it comes to telling you things, I know that," she confesses, quietly, "I'm trying to work on it."

"I know you are, I know…"

* * *

She doesn't hear about the Brandon Bill being repealed until she sits down to watch the news that night. How could she have forgotten that they were voting on it today? She and Fitz haven't talked in a couple of days, but this has been in the works for a long time, _how_ could she have forgotten? As soon as the story flashes across her screen she panics, scrambling for the phone and dialing their private line.

When he doesn't answer she starts to pace anxiously, wondering if he's alright, knowing the news will have been devastating for him. Should she go to him? Does she even have security clearance?

Just as she's trying to convince herself that she's overreacting, the phone rings.

"Hi."

"They repealed it, Liv."

"I know, Fitz, I'm so sorry."

"That innocent kid died, and those goddamn idiots repealed it."

He's drunk, slurring his words a bit.

"Where are you? Are you in the residence?"

"Yeah. Came up here as soon as the vote came back."

 _Good…at least he's in a private place, he won't get any bad press from this…that's the last thing he needs right now_

"What can I do?" she asks, softly.

He huffs out a laugh. "Short of magically erasing this from the record, nothing."

"I'm sorry," she sighs, sinking down onto the couch.

"S'okay. You didn't do anything wrong."

Ice clinks in his glass as he takes another drink and she cringes, wishing she could be there to take the glass out of his hand. He's clearly had enough.

"What are we doing?"

His question is sudden, and for a minute she's not sure what he means.

"Who? The country?"

"No, me and you. What are we _doing_ , Liv?"

 _He's drunk, he's drunk, it's okay, relax, it's just a question_

"This is friendly, we're being friends, remember?"

"I don't know how to be your friend. I don't feel like you're just my friend. I—I hear your voice and I still want you."

His filter is completely gone.

"Fitz," she warns, halfheartedly.

" _God_ , I miss you. I miss kissing you, I miss being inside you—"

His voice is making her a little breathless, her response to his words completely involuntary. " _Fitz_."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't—I should go—"

"I miss you too."

He's stunned into silence, trying to figure out if his scotch-addled brain is playing tricks on him.

"You do?"

She sighs, stretching out on the couch. "I really do."

"You miss me, _like that_?"

"Like _that_ ," she admits, smiling a little bit at his shocked tone, "But let's talk about it when you're sober, okay?"

He groans. "I'm sorry. I drank too much and I called you, I'm really sorry. I'm so fucking sick of this job."

"I know, shh. You should drink some water and lie down, why don't you do that before we hang up."

"Don't hang up, Livvie."

"No, I'm not hanging up. I just need you to drink some water and lie down, can you do that for me?"

* * *

"How are you feeling?" she asks him the next evening.

His head is still pounding, and he's switched out scotch for water tonight. "I've been better. I'm sorry, you shouldn't be dealing with me like that."

"No," she scolds, softly, "I didn't mind. You were upset."

"I'm still upset. But, not much I can do about it at this point, I only have another month in office. They timed it this way on purpose, bastards."

They lapse into silence, and she thinks about what he's just said.

"I can't believe your term is over."

"I know. It's surreal. Mellie asked me to stick around for the inauguration."

"She did? Are you going to?"

"I told her I'd come to the ball for a little while, not the ceremony. I don't want to take away from her moment."

She smiles, because it's so him. He can even find it in himself to be considerate of his ex-wife.

They're quiet again, reflecting.

"Liv, last night, you said—"

"I remember what I said," she interrupts softly.

She's been waiting for him to bring it up, almost hoping that he would.

"Did you mean it?"

"I meant it. Did you?"

"Of course I did. I'm always honest when I'm drunk, you know that," he smiles.

Liv cups the phone closer, as if it will bring him closer to her. "I don't—we shouldn't change anything, I think we should keep doing what we're doing. The talking. It's good for us, we need to keep doing it if we're going to, um, if we're ever…"

He knows she wants him to finish the sentence but he won't. "I need _you_ to say it."

"If we're going to be together," she finishes, after a moment, "If that's what you want."

"That's what I want, that's what I've always wanted. But I need you to want it too."

"I want it, but I'm scared," she whispers, the gravity of what they're talking about taking her breath away all at once.

"What are you scared of?"

"I'm scared that it won't work. I know everything will be different, we won't be under a microscope anymore, we won't be in the White House. But it won't be Vermont either, it's not going to be perfect. It's—do you think we can still be us? Without the fantasy?"

"I already feel like we're us, don't you? I feel like I understand you better now than I ever have. And we've made the catastrophic mistakes already, we've already done everything we can to screw this up, and we're still here, fighting for it."

She closes her eyes, letting the truth in his words calm her. "You always know how to make me feel better, how do you do that?"

"I know you," he murmurs, "And you've actually been talking to me this time around, the insight is incredible."

They laugh a little bit, and it feels so _good_. In the comfortable silence, she starts to let herself think about him, about what getting back together means. She wonders if he smells the same, if his arms will feel the same.

"I want to see you," she breathes, her stomach flipping pleasantly as she thinks about being with him again, "But I don't think we should do that yet. We can't get distracted, we need to keep getting stronger."

He sighs, and she can almost see his brow furrowing. "I don't like it, but you're right. I hate it when you're right."

"I know," she teases.

* * *

"Livvie, c'mon, it's been two weeks since we agreed to move forward. I haven't seen you in months, I just want to hold you."

She knows he's trying to be sweet, to melt her resolve, but one of them has to stand strong on this.

"No."

"Please?"

"If I come over there right now, we'll be naked in three seconds."

"The problem being…"

"If we're naked we won't be talking. And we need to talk, we promised."

"Oh, I can talk to you while we're—"

"Stop. You know what I mean."

"…well, can we _talk_ about being naked?"

"No!" she laughs.

"How about if I promise to _not_ try to take your clothes off, then will you come over?"

"Hmm, let me think about it…no!"

* * *

The presidential inauguration brings them together, after five weeks of near-daily phone calls. Five weeks of laughter, tears, long talks, and anticipation. When they see each other, they just _know_ , they know they're going to be alright, they know that it's time, and they don't fight it.

In the interim between leaving the White House and moving into his new house, he's moved into a nearby penthouse hotel room. They don't even have to talk about it, when it's time to leave he discretely ushers her into the car with him, and before she knows it they're crashing through the door to his suite, mouths fused together, breathless and grabbing at each other.

The door slams closed and he promptly spins them around, pinning her up against it. She's already going for his belt, rubbing him through his pants, because they're at that place, it's been too long and they're just _gone_.

They trip and stumble around the room, tongues entwined, yanking at buttons and zippers without actually accomplishing the removal of any clothing, trying to remember to breathe. At some point they crash into the desk and he instinctually lifts her, groaning loudly when she slips her hand into his boxers, stroking him firmly.

" _Liv…Liv…Liv…_ "

"So hard for me already," she whispers against his mouth.

Images of taking her on the resolute desk flash through his mind as he reaches beneath her dress, curling his fingers around the waistband of her underwear and pulling them down. She lifts her hips to help him, pulling him between her thighs once he's rid her of the garment, letting him slide her dress up and out of the way.

"How—do you need—"

"Fuck me, just fuck me, _need you_ ," she gasps.

" _Fuck_ , Liv."

He sounds just as wrecked as she feels, groaning into her neck as he grips the base of his cock and guides himself into her folds. His big, warm hands grab her bare hips and pull her closer, encouraging her to wrap her legs around him. He's thick and long and perfect inside her, exactly the way she remembers, exactly the way she's dreamt about. His rhythm is fast and determined already, it's everything she's needed, everything she's missed, and her arms slide around his neck, holding on as he fucks her just right.

" _Oh my god, oh my god, Fitz_ ," she whimpers, panting, " _Harder baby…Fitz, fuck_."

He makes a low, desperate sound and happily gives her what she wants, snapping his hips forward hard enough to knock the desk against the wall. Every time his name leaves her lips on a moan, every time she whimpers or mewls, he's being shoved closer to his peak, his erection twitching and pulsing painfully as he thrusts. His reaction to her, still, is violent, visceral, _uncontrollable_.

"Come for me, Livvie."

And she wants to, _desperately_ , she's so close, but she doesn't want it to end yet.

"Come for me, so I can take you again," he growls, reading her mind, feeling her holding back.

Relief starts to flood her, realizing it won't be over, that he needs more as much as she does, that they're just taking the edge off. Liv shuts her mind off then, pressing her forehead against his neck, her tongue darting out to catch a bead of sweat as it trails over his skin. He's _warm_ with exertion, with arousal, and the scent of him along with her impending orgasm makes her moan, makes her belly tremble.

"I want you naked," he whispers against her ear, the dirty talk causing another rush of moisture to coat him as he thrusts quickly, expertly.

" _Yes_."

"I want to taste you."

" _Please_ —"

"I want you slow, and then fast again."

She whimpers when she feels it starting, those first waves squeezing around him. "Oh, _fuck_ —"

"Want you all night. Gonna make you come so ha—"

He breaks off as she cries out, her orgasm making her convulse against him. She flexes her hips, whimpering and moaning, pulling on his neck as her whole body tenses and relaxes rhythmically through her climax. He comes inside her seconds later, his body jerking into hers, grunting and growling against her neck, her mouth.

"Why do we keep doing this to ourselves?" she pants, dropping her forehead to his shoulder. "We literally spend _years_ denying ourselves the most incredible sex, it's criminal. We should be arrested."

Fitz chuckles into her hair, gently pulling out, making sure her legs are secure around his waist before he lifts her from the desk.

"Don't look at me. I wasn't the one being all responsible and insisting that we talk first."

Setting her down on the edge of the bed, he kneels in front of her, meeting her hazy, lust-filled gaze when she cups his face. Her thumb rubs over his bottom lip as they stare at each other, trying to ground themselves in the moment.

"I don't think we need to talk tonight," she murmurs, her breath hitching as he nuzzles her stomach, her breasts, breathing her in through the fabric of her dress.

His hands are everywhere, gliding firmly over her body. She leans down and captures his mouth in series of long, slow kisses, tongues dancing sensually.

"Take this off," he rasps, fingers pulling her half-undone zipper the rest of the way down.

They take their time undressing each other, revealing sensitive spots that they know by heart, but desperately need to be reacquainted with. They stop to tease and play, drawing breathless giggles and soft sighs from one another until they're finally naked, laid out on the bed.

Fitz spends long minutes sucking kisses against her neck, rediscovering all of her favorite spots, all the places that make her writhe. Her skin is so soft, and she smells so good, like rose and vanilla and sex, the scent of _them_ pressed into her skin. Her soft moans are insanely arousing, she's so responsive as he lazily tongues her nipples, his fingers stroking low on her belly. He can't stop breathing her in, his breath catching as her nails scratch over his scalp, fingers tangling in his curls.

"I need to put my mouth on you, right now," he rasps, kissing down between her breasts.

She lets his body part her thighs, pushing on his shoulders to encourage him lower, arching her back when she feels his tongue. "I want you to, I— _ooh_."

He levels with her core and gets comfortable, draping her thighs over his shoulders, slowly swirling his tongue around her clit. "Mmm, missed this. You smell incredible, _fuck_ , Liv."

She props herself up on one elbow so she can watch him, threading the fingers of her other hand into his hair, gasping when his tongue massages her opening. Their eyes meet briefly as he traces her lower lips, kissing and gently sucking, making sure she's warm and wet everywhere. He pushes her thighs further apart and rests his forearm low on her belly, taking a moment to nip at her inner thighs, making her sigh as he whispers kisses there.

Slowly, deliberately, he uses his thumb to pull up the delicate skin covering her clit, exposing it fully. Her breath quickens before he's even touched her, anticipating the intense sensation, moaning as he gently makes contact with the flat part of his tongue and starts to move back and forth rhythmically.

He can't use enough pressure to get her off when he licks her this way, she's too sensitive, but the endless ripples of tingly pleasure slowly drive her insane, make her whimper and cry out. He's really taking his time tonight, holding her down as her hips try to flex and twist, unfaltering in his rhythm.

She falls back against the mattress and puts both hands in his hair. "So good, baby, _ungh_."

She loses track of time as he winds her up tighter and tighter, her entire universe centering on the pleasure point between her thighs. He's only satisfied when she's whimpering uncontrollably, when he knows she can't take it for one second longer, thighs shaking with sensitivity, fingers pulling at his curls. He releases her and slides his thumb down, carefully covering her clit and pressing hard circles, simultaneously slipping his tongue inside her.

Her hips fly off the bed as she comes, a short scream echoing against the ceiling, her keening moans loud and breathless. She pulls him up her body and wraps herself around him before she's finished coming down, rocking her hips against his torso, clutching at him as she gasps and pants against his forehead.

"I _love_ to watch you come like that," he murmurs after a moment, nuzzling into her damp neck.

She can't speak yet but she hums quietly, arching her neck to encourage his kisses, just wanting to feel him close to her. Her hands stroke over as much of his skin as she can reach as she calms, catching her breath.

" _God_ , I missed your mouth," she breathes finally, laughing a little bit and groaning in satisfaction.

Fitz chuckles against her neck, pressing a few more kisses to her skin and then letting her guide him up. She cups his face in both hands and kisses him, moaning softly, coaxing his tongue out to play with hers. His hand runs a soothing circle over her belly and lands on her breast, holding it gently, absently tracing circles over her nipple.

She pulls him between her thighs again, breaking their kiss and resting her forehead against his.

"I missed _you_ ," she whispers fiercely, blinking away the tears that suddenly sting her eyes.

He kisses her gently once, twice.

"Make love with me," he says softly, running his hands up and down her sides, cupping her hips, "Are you okay? Are you ready?"

"Mmm," she sighs, pushing gently against his chest to flip them over.

Sitting up over him, she rubs her hands over his chest, his abs, over the strip of hair leading down to his erection, which is pulsing impatiently between her thighs. A slow smile spreads across her face as his eyes trace her body, his lips parted in arousal, hands stroking her thighs. She bites her lip as his gaze lands on her breasts, the delicate spread of her collarbones, dark eyes finally locking with hers.

Arching her back a little, she preens for him, playfully pushing her breasts out, shaking her shoulders daintily. He grins, gripping her hips and growling low in his throat, nodding appreciatively. He makes her feel so sexy, so desired.

"You are so beautiful," he murmurs, rubbing a soothing hand up and down between her breasts, "Put me inside you."

She's _so_ wet after all of his teasing, after how hard he'd made her come, that she sinks down onto him in one long stroke. His eyes slam shut, hands squeezing gently around her hips as she starts to move over him.

"C'mere," he murmurs, guiding her to lie down on top of him and rolling them onto their sides.

They adjust so that her top leg is wrapped around his hip, shifting as close as possible.

"Want you close," he rasps, rubbing a warm palm over her back, "Is this okay?"

She grinds her hips down against him, encouraging him to rock up into her, humming contentedly. "Mmm-hmm. You feel good."

He can tell he's worn her out because her kisses are lazy, tongue-filled, a little wet and sloppy. She relaxes her upper body into the pillows and cups the back of his neck, meeting his thrusts as he moves inside her. They kiss languidly for a while, taking advantage of the closeness, rocking their hips together.

Liv rolls them again, pulling him on top of her and guiding his face into her neck, gasping as he immediately puts more weight behind his thrusts. He's stretching her deliciously, and she runs her hands up and down his back, delighting in the flexion of his ass.

She starts to murmur in his ear, helping him along. "Are you close, baby? You feel so good, missed you so much."

Fitz groans loudly, thrusting deeper and panting against her neck.

She exhales hotly over his ear, tracing the delicate edges with her tongue, biting down gently on the soft lobe, moving to whisper to him. "I love the way you feel inside me, missed you like this. I missed coming with you, so good baby. _I love you so much._ "

He stills inside her as he starts to come, grinding his hips down, pressing deep, moaning over and over. A gentle orgasm sneaks up on her when he puts pressure on her oversensitive clit, and she sighs happily, holding him close.

Later, after they've cleaned up and crawled into bed, she settles into his arms, head pillowed on his chest.

"What am I going to wear home in the morning?" she muses, yawning widely.

"You're gonna have to do the walk of shame."

"Do you even know what that means?"

"Yes, I know what it means, I'm not _that_ old."

She giggles, snuggling closer to him.

"Mmm, love you," he mumbles, burying his nose in her hair.

"Love you too," she whispers.

He gets quiet and she thinks he's fallen asleep, not far behind him herself, when he speaks again, voice low and soft.

"It's nice when you say it back."

"I'm trying," she murmurs.

"I know, we both are. We're getting there."

She smiles against his chest.

"We're getting there."

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for reading! I'd love to know what you thought!**


	20. The Firsts: V

**A/N: More with our favorite couple and their little Micah! This fluffy little series is really my happy place, I have such a great time writing it. Just as a reminder, Micah's age is next to each vignette's title. We're moving forward in time in this one so it shouldn't be too confusing but, just for reference.  
**

 _ **Disclaimer: The italicized line from Winnie the Pooh belongs to A.A. Milne, of course.**_

* * *

 _ **The First Word - 11 Months**_

"Alright my big boy, what do you want for lunch today?"

Olivia plops Micah into his high chair, clipping him in and sliding his tray forward.

"Bah! Ma-ma-ma-ba-da"

She nods as if she can understand him perfectly. "Fruit appetizer while Mama figures out what to make, got it."

As soon as she turns her back, walking a few feet away to the other side of the island, he starts to whine, not happy about losing her undivided attention. Liv ignores him, grabbing a plastic baby spoon and a thick plastic smoothie straw, handing him both items on her way back from the refrigerator. The straw seems to be a winner today and he gnaws happily on the end, banging the spoon against his tray.

"Are you making music?" she asks, pulling together salad ingredients for herself and Fitz, and a baked sweet potato for Micah.

"Ah-ah-ah! Ba-da-da-da"

"Where's Daddy? Call him, tell him to come in here and help. Mommy's not great with large knives and whole vegetables."

She smushes some blueberries with a fork, pulling Micah's shirt off and securing a bib around his neck before dropping a small pile of fruit onto his tray. He goes to town immediately, stuffing berries into his mouth.

"Umm, mmm, mmm"

"Good stuff, peanut?" she laughs, noting that he already has blueberry juice on his nose and one of his ears.

Saving the chopping for Fitz, she starts to mash half of the sweet potato, adding coconut oil and cinnamon. Deciding Micah might need more food options, she roots around in the fridge and comes up with leftover green beans. She's popping the container in the microwave when she hears Fitz start laughing behind her.

"How're those blueberries?" he's asking Micah, whose cheeks are properly covered in juice.

"Gosh, he _loves_ them, doesn't he?"

Liv dumps the rest of the smashed berries onto his tray, earning a shriek of delight.

With Micah's food figured out she grabs a big bowl and dumps pre-washed greens into it, tearing up extra romaine lettuce for crunch. Fitz slides past her, absently trailing his fingers across her lower back, taking up a stance at the cutting board next to her and starting to chop up a cucumber.

"Ma-ma-ma-buh-da"

Micah's babbling is background noise at this point, and they can almost tune it out as they continue to prep lunch.

Fitz pops a blueberry from the container into his mouth. "How was your call? Do you think you've got a case?"

"I always have a case," she smiles, gently bumping his shoulder, "I told them we need to deal with it on Monday though, I'm not taking any more work calls this weekend."

"Ma-ma-ma"

"Can you pass me that bowl of chicken? I need to get some marinade on it now if we're grilling later."

"Ma-ma"

"Sure," she says, crossing to the fridge and passing him the bowl.

"Ma-ma!"

She stands in front of the open door with her arms crossed, wondering if she ought to cut up some grapes for Micah. "Do you think that's enough food for him over there? He seems really hungry today."

"Ma-ma!"

"Liv," Fitz says, quietly, "Liv, look."

She turns her head to look at him. "What?"

"Ma-ma!"

Fitz is smiling, looking between her and Micah without moving, like he doesn't want to interrupt the moment. "He's calling you, look."

She looks around Fitz toward Micah, and sure enough, he's leaning out of his high chair so he can see her, looking right at her as he—"Mama!"

"He's saying 'mama'," she breathes.

"He sure is—" Fitz smiles.

"—on purpose. He's saying it on purpose. Are you calling me, sweet boy?"

Closing the fridge, she walks to Micah and bends down to look at him.

"Are you calling me?" she asks, smiling at him in wonder.

Micah's sticky, blueberry-covered lips spread into a grin, and he smacks his little hands against his tray. "Mama!"

"Yeah!" she laughs, "That's right! I'm your Mama!"

Micah reacts to her excitement, smiling and yelling. "Ah-ah-ah!"

* * *

 _ **The First Surprise - 14 Months**_

Fitz sends Abby a text as soon as they're in the building, and when she gives the all clear he gets on the elevator, pushing the button for Olivia Pope & Associates.

Micah pats his hands against the front of Fitz's polo shirt, his eyes growing wide as the elevator cables clank, carrying the car upward.

"Ready to see Mommy?" Fitz asks him, excitedly.

"Dat? Mama?" Micah asks, not having any idea where they are, or that Liv is upstairs.

The elevator doors open and Abby's waiting for them, looking over her shoulder to make sure Liv hasn't heard the elevator coming up. Micah smiles as soon as he sees her.

Fitz bounces him a little, making his smile even bigger. "Who's that? Micah, who is that?"

"Bee!" Micah answers after a minute, starting to reach for her.

"Hey short stuff!" Abby whispers, holding her arms out for him.

He goes to her immediately, familiar with his favorite babysitter.

Olivia's voice rings out through the office, angry and tense. She's clearly not happy, yelling at someone about a lost file and missing evidence. Fitz looks at Abby quizzically, nodding his head down the hall.

"Mama?"

Micah's craning his neck toward the sound of Liv's voice, recognizing it immediately.

"She's on the phone, I think you're just in time. We've had a shi-uh, I mean, a _yucky_ morning around here," Abby explains, catching herself before she curses in front of Micah.

A resounding smack echoes down the hallway, indicating that Liv's slammed the phone down.

"Lemme go check on that, I'll give you the all-clear," Abby says, handing Micah back to Fitz and scurrying down to Olivia's office.

She comes out a minute later, giving Fitz a thumbs-up. Deciding to take advantage of Micah's recent surge of independence, Fitz crouches down and sets the toddler on his feet, making sure he's steady in his little sneakers.

"Okay buddy, go get Mommy," he whispers, pointing Micah in the general direction of Olivia's office, knowing as soon as he sees her he'll make his presence known.

Micah eyes him curiously and toddles off in the right direction, peering into all the glass-walled offices around him. After a few feet he stops and looks back at Fitz, not quite at the open door of Liv's office yet.

"Go ahead," Fitz encourages.

Micah turns away and keeps walking, turning his head left and right, taking in his new surroundings. The moment he sees Liv he stops, breaking out into full-body excitement.

"Ma! Mama!" he yells excitedly, looking back at Fitz, bouncing and pointing to his mom.

Olivia has been sitting on the couch in her office, massaging her temples where she can feel a headache coming on. Her head snaps up when she hears her son's little voice, her mouth falling open in surprise.

"Hey, you!" she exclaims, her face lighting up.

He looks just as surprised to see her as she does to see him, and it's hilariously adorable. Eyes wide, he keeps pointing at her and then looking at someone off to his left, presumably Fitz.

"Come over here!" she laughs, kneeling down on the floor and holding her hands out.

Micah trots over to her as fast as he can manage, laughing and letting her gather him into her arms for a hug.

"Mama!" he says again, tapping his hand against her mouth.

"Hi! What are you doing? Did you come to see Mommy at work? Did Daddy bring you? Where's Daddy?"

"Da-dee?" Micah enunciates, repeating after her.

Fitz strolls into her office, hands in his pockets, grinning at the two of them.

"Da-DEE!" Micah shrieks, pointing to Fitz, proud to have located him.

"I see him! Did Daddy give you sugar today? You're awfully awake for someone who's supposed to be napping right now," Liv jokes, standing up with Micah in her arms.

"We don't usually see you in the middle of the day, we're just excited," he replies, looping his arm around her waist.

Fitz pulls her in close and presses a soft kiss against her mouth. Sighing appreciatively, she kisses him a few more times and rubs her free hand down his back.

"Happy Birthday, Livvie," he murmurs.

"Thank you," she says reluctantly, rolling her eyes a little bit.

"I can't not acknowledge your birthday," he says playfully, keeping her in his arms.

"I know, I know, I've accepted it, you like birthdays," she concedes, gently prying her necklace away from Micah and tucking it inside her blouse.

"He did nap, by the way. I just woke him up a little early."

Micah chooses that moment to softly smack Fitz's cheek.

"Da-dee! Hi."

"Hi buddy. Why are you saying hi to me, I've been with you all day you goofball," Fitz laughs, "Tell Mommy we came to steal her for the rest of the day."

Liv's excitement dims a little bit.

"I have a new client coming in this afternoon, I can't leave," she says, shaking her head.

"You don't have a new client," Fitz smirks.

"What do you mean? I do, Abby scheduled someone yesterday," she explains, brows furrowed.

Abby pops her head around the corner.

"No, I didn't. Cassanova here called and asked me to make sure you'd be free to leave at lunchtime today, so I made someone up," Abby reveals proudly, winking at Fitz and heading back to her office.

"Aunt Abby is so sneaky, Micah, can you believe tha—oh my _god_ , these shorts finally fit him?" Liv exclaims, recovered enough from the surprise to notice that her son is currently sporting an ensemble nearly identical to his father's.

" _Finally_ ," Fitz nods, "Given how much he eats I expected to get him into those months ago."

Olivia sets Micah back on his feet, bending down to straighten the miniature navy blue chino shorts, noting Fitz has also put him in a tiny polo shirt.

"You are so _cute_ , I can't _stand_ it," she states, nuzzling her face into his neck, which tickles him and makes him laugh.

She stands up, inadvertently turning Micah loose in her office as she moves to gather her things.

Marcus comes skidding around the corner.

"Oh good, you're still here."

"What's wrong?" Liv asks, eyes widening.

"Nothing! I just heard the little man was here," Marcus says hopefully, a goofy grin on his face.

"Oh, jesus, don't scare me like that. Yup, here he is," Liv says, stepping aside to reveal Micah, who is investigating everything on the coffee table, "Oh, Micah, can Mommy have that?"

"Dis? Mo? Dis?" Micah asks, little fists clutched around various legal documents.

"Uh-huh, thanks pumpkin, let's put those back. That's a good helper, can you put that back right there?" she wheedles, closing several folders and moving them before he can scatter papers everywhere.

"Mr. President," Marcus greets, extending his hand.

"Good to see you Marcus, call me Fitz. I've been trying to get Liv's team to drop the whole 'Mr. President' thing for years now, be a trendsetter," Fitz smiles, shaking his hand.

"I'll try Mr—uh, Fitz. I have three sisters and eight nieces and nephews, I love kids," Marcus explains, bending down to Micah's level, "Hey, Micah!"

The toddler is immediately shy, burying his face in Olivia's leg and raising his arms. She chuckles and scoops him up.

"Are you being shy?" she asks him, trying to ease his face out of her neck.

"This is Mommy's friend Marcus, can you say hi? Hmm? Hey, can he have a high-five? Show him how you high-five," she whispers to him, pressing kisses to his forehead.

Micah peeks at Marcus cautiously, and then tentatively holds his hand out.

"Yeah!" Marcus says, high-fiving him gently.

Micah's smile gets bigger and he holds his hand out more confidently. Within a minute or so he's showing off his high-five skills enthusiastically to Marcus, and Quinn, who has also appeared wanting to say hello to the littlest Grant.

Micah has rarely been to OPA, just as a general rule. Not only does she prefer to keep work separate from family, the sometimes unpredictable nature of her clientele has made her wary of having her son in the office. She'd had to bring him in once, as a tiny baby, when Fitz had been traveling and a situation arose that desperately needed her attention. Her team had been slightly surprised when she'd swept through the office carrying a carseat, announcing an emergency meeting in two minutes. She ran the meeting with no issue, Micah tucked inside a baby-wearing wrap and snuggled protectively against her chest, but he hasn't been back to visit since.

After a minute, Micah's warmed up enough that she's able to put him down, leaving him to play with his new friends while she grabs her bag. Fitz is waiting near her office door, chatting with Abby, watching Micah ham it up.

"We could probably leave him here and he wouldn't even care, he's getting so much attention," Liv comments, coming to stand with them.

"I know," Fitz chuckles, "He's loving it."

"Alright little mister, c'mon, let's go get in the car," she calls.

His little ears perk up and he finally notices that his parents are no longer within arms' reach.

"Cah?"

"Yeah, we're gonna go in the car! Let's go buddy," Fitz adds, starting to walk away.

Micah trots after them, taking Olivia's hand when she reaches for his.

"Wave bye-bye," she encourages, turning around and waving to her team, smiling as her son does the same.

Abby, Quinn, and Marcus watch them go, getting a rare glimpse of Liv as a mom.

"Having that baby with him was the best thing she ever did," Quinn comments softly, glancing over at Abby, who nods in agreement.

* * *

 _ **The First Sick Day - 19 Months**_

As soon as their client stands up to leave, she pulls her phone out and dials Fitz.

"Hi," he answers, sounding much too tired for eleven-thirty in the morning.

"Hi, how are you guys doing? How was the pediatrician?"

"Run of the mill cold and an ear infection in his right ear."

"My poor little pumpkin," she groans, closing her office door and perching on the edge of her desk, "He's never had an ear infection before, that's why he was so miserable last night. Is he still awake? I hear him."

Fitz must be holding Micah because she can hear him whimpering and crying, sniffling pitifully.

"Yeah, he's not really grasping the concept that the medicine I'm trying to give him will make him feel better. I tried our usual routine before naptime, but he's not really going for it today. Now he's overtired."

" _Mommy…_ "

Olivia's heart breaks. "Is he asking for me?"

"Liv," he soothes, "We're fine, he's okay. Kids get sick, this is completely normal, don't worry."

"Don't tell me not to worry, I'm his mom. Tell me the truth, does he want me? Do you want me to come home?"

Fitz sighs, knowing he'd better be honest. "He's been crying for you all morning. And to be honest, if you can swing it, I could really use an extra pair of hands to try and get some of this medicine in him. I could just hold him down, but I'd really rather not—"

"No, don't do that, I'm coming right now," she decides instantly, already shutting down her laptop.

"Are you sure, Liv?"

"He needs me, and you need a break, I'm coming."

"Okay," he replies, sounding relieved, "We'll see you soon."

* * *

The first thing she hears when she walks into the house is Micah screeching.

"No, no, no!"

She comes around the corner into the living room just in time to see him throw a wooden block across the room and burst into tears. Fitz is laying next to him on the floor, looking nonplussed by the outburst.

"What's going on in here?"

"I handed him the blue block instead of the yellow one," Fitz shrugs, "Clearly, that was unacceptable."

Olivia nods sympathetically. "Clearly. It's hard to be a sick toddler."

"Mommy," Micah cries, walking toward her, holding his arms up, "Mommy, up."

"Hey you, come here," she says softly, picking him up and giving him a hug, "I've got you, shh. You're okay."

He calms quickly, rubbing his ear against her shoulder. Micah's reaction to being offered the wrong colored block tells her exactly what kind of morning Fitz has had.

She tips her head back for a kiss when Fitz comes over to greet her, rubbing her fingertips against the back of his neck.

"I've got him, we'll come find you in a little while," she offers, returning his tired smile.

He presses a kiss to Micah's forehead. "I'll be in the office. He feels a little warm now, don't you think?"

Liv presses her own lips to his forehead. "He does. I'll take his temperature in a couple minutes, I need to change my clothes."

"Mommy uhstais?"

"Yup, we're gonna go upstairs, Mommy has to change her work clothes."

"Shoos?"

"I took my shoes off already. See? Over there?"

Micah checks out the row of shoes by the front door on their way upstairs, recognizing her heels. They've noticed that he likes when her shoes are by the door, presumably because it usually means she's home to stay. Likewise, he gets upset when she puts her shoes on, knowing full well that it means she's leaving. He's much more cognizant of her comings and goings these days, and he loves when she's home.

"Mommy shoo."

"Those are my shoes, that's right."

"No shoo."

"Nope, no more shoes today," she says casually, carrying him up the stairs, "Mommy's all done working."

He's gotten a little clingy lately, something that's clearly been exacerbated by his cold. She's been trying not to feel guilty about it, Fitz has been telling her its perfectly normal, and everything she's read has said the same thing. Still, it hasn't been easy to leave him when he doesn't want her to go.

She gently throws Micah onto their bed, trying to get a laugh out of him. He giggles for a second, crawling up to the pillows, and she can tell he doesn't feel well because he lays down, blinking at her.

"Mommy sit," he says, wanting her to lay with him.

"Hang on, I have to change, okay?"

As soon as she walks into the bathroom he starts to whimper, his mood turning on a dime.

"C'mere Micah, I'm right here," she calls.

She hears him slide off the bed and he walks into the bathroom, burying his face in her bare leg as she tries to tug on a pair of leggings.

He's already whining softly because she hasn't picked him up, little hands reaching.

"What color, Micah?"

Olivia tries to get him to name the color of the blue sweater she's putting on, but he's not in the mood, getting more upset by the second.

"Okay, okay, all done, come here."

As soon as she scoops him up he quiets, putting his head on her shoulder again.

"Should we take your temperature? Hmm?"

Setting him on the bathroom counter, she fishes the forehead thermometer out of the bottom drawer, quickly scanning him.

 _100.1_

"No wonder you're so sad," she murmurs, smoothing his curls, "Fever too, not good buddy."

While she puts the thermometer away, he manages to grab for Fitz's electric razor.

"Micah," she scolds gently, taking it from him, "No-no, that's Daddy's."

Even the tiniest reprimand is catastrophic today, and his little face dissolves into tears immediately.

She pulls him close when he reaches for her, guiding his head onto her shoulder, swaying back and forth, cooing to him quietly. "I know, pumpkin. I know you don't feel good, shh."

He's beyond exhausted at this point, in desperate need of relief from medicine that he's been, predictably, too stubborn to take.

"How about if we go read a story? Do you want Mommy to read with you?"

"Daddy?"

"Daddy, too? Okay, let's go find him, tell him we want him to read with us."

"Daddy? 'ead, Daddy?"

Micah has always loved the sound of Fitz's voice, even before he was born, finding something about the deep, smooth tone incredibly soothing and comforting. During her last trimester, she used to wake Fitz up in the night at least once a week, begging him to talk to her belly and calm their son, stopping him from rolling and kicking her in the ribs while she was trying to sleep.

Olivia stops in the doorway of the office, Micah balanced on her hip.

"Want to come read a book with us, Daddy? Someone's asking for you."

Fitz looks up from his computer, pulling his glasses off and walking over to them. "Oh yeah? How's my buddy doing? Does he have a fever?"

"Yup, 100.1. We need to get some Tylenol in him. Do you wanna go see Daddy?"

Fitz offers his hands to Micah, who shakes his head 'no', burying his face in Liv's shoulder, mumbling something about 'Daddy' and 'book'.

"Stinker," she murmurs affectionately, "Looks like this nap is a two-person job."

"Go pick a book, I'll get the medicine and we'll figure it out," Fitz chuckles.

Liv carries Micah back out to the living room and over to one of their bookshelves, where they've cleared out the bottom shelf for part of his collection. He's not too interested in choosing today, so she offers him a Winnie the Pooh story, his current favorite.

Micah is snuggling into her lap when Fitz comes back, trying to hide the little plastic syringe holding a dose of medicine, also holding a bottle of what looks like eye drops.

"What's that?" she asks, taking the Tylenol and setting it on the end table next to her.

Fitz mimics putting the drops into his own ear, and she pulls a skeptical face.

"I know," he says, "But we'll give it a try."

"Alright Daddy, we picked out Winnie the Pooh, we're gonna need your best Eeyore today."

"Oh, my favorite," Fitz replies, stretching out on his side next to them, taking the book when Micah hands it to him.

"Daddy, 'ore?"

"Yup, I'll do Eeyore, don't worry. What happened to Eeyore's tail?"

"Uh-oh," Micah breathes, eyes wide with concern.

"Uh-oh, that's right. I bet he'll find it though, let's see."

Liv smiles as he starts to read, enjoying watching them together. They don't often read to Micah at the same time, usually only one of them does story time, and it almost feels like a treat to relax as a family in the middle of the day. Even though he's tired and sick, she can tell Micah's enjoying it too, being cuddled in one parent's arms and listening to the other read at the same time.

"… _and at last he said, with a long, sad sigh, 'I believe you're right'_ ," Fitz reads, making his voice deep and extra slow to imitate Eeyore.

This is Micah's very favorite thing, and he smiles at his Dad's impersonation, listening with rapt attention. After a few pages, Olivia picks up the syringe, holding her breath as she sneaks a squirt of medicine into Micah's mouth. He makes a face, protesting with a whine, but they quickly re-direct his attention to the book. On her third attempt he barely flinches, letting her dispense the rest fairly easily, and she and Fitz share a look of triumph.

She can tell the minute the Tylenol starts to kick in because he finally relaxes back against her chest, getting much needed relief from the pain in his ear and sinuses. By the end of the book his eyes are drooping shut, and he's slowly shifting in her arms so that his head is resting on her shoulder again. She rubs circles over his back and, finally, he goes limp in her arms, sound asleep.

"Should we try these?" Fitz wonders, holding up the little bottle of ear drops, "They're just for pain, no antibiotics or anything."

Liv shrugs. "Might help him sleep longer, may as well try. Just do one drop and see how he takes it."

He kneels next to them and carefully squeezes one drop into Micah's ear. His face scrunches up and he whimpers in his sleep.

"Shh, you're okay. Shh," Liv whispers, slowly rubbing his back, pressing her lips into his curls.

Micah quiets easily, sighing deeply.

"It says we're supposed to keep his head on an angle for at least fifteen minutes, for maximum effect," Fitz reads off the bottle.

"Well, he's sleeping, so no problem there. I'll just hold him."

Fitz rolls onto his back next to her, exhaling on a yawn. "Thank goodness for the Mommy Superpowers, guaranteed to render this kid content and/or unconscious in thirty minutes or less."

"It was a team effort," she argues softly, letting him take her hand, "Eeyore voice for the win, he loves it every time."

"My Eeyore voice _is_ pretty good," he boasts, smiling at her, " _Not that anybody cares…_ "

She giggles as he slips into Eeyore voice again, running the back of her hand over his cheek.

* * *

 **Dedicated to _my_ Dad, who has the BEST Eeyore voice. Thanks for reading, I'd love to know what you thought!**


	21. The Firsts: Pregnancy Edition I

**A/N: Hey guys! Hopefully I still have some readers out there! This is part I of II, of a special Pregnancy Edition of The Firsts. Since Liv's entire pregnancy is technically a "first", I didn't title the vignettes, instead they're titled by how far along in pregnancy she is. If you haven't read The Firsts before, they take place in an almost canon universe where Liv got pregnant around 5x05, and then 5x06 and beyond never happened. I've included a little excerpt from "Superpowers" (where I introduced this universe) to explain where we start out.**

* * *

 _ **Excerpt from "Superpowers"...**  
_

 _At thirty-eight years old, she had accidentally gotten pregnant, and she'd never been more terrified. Fitz found her sitting on the bathroom floor hours after taking the pregnancy test, still in a state of complete shock. He had pulled her into his arms, letting her cry, reassuring her that she wasn't a terrible person for being scared._

"What do you want to do, Livvie?"

 _She'd never loved him more than she had in that moment, the moment he gave her an out, should she choose to take it. After all, babies with her had always been his dream, not hers. Although she would have been lying if she'd said the thought never crossed her mind, she couldn't imagine actually terminating the pregnancy. This baby was theirs, they'd created it together, and even though she couldn't say she was happy about the surprise, she wanted their baby._

"So…we're having a baby?" Fitz asks, tentatively.

"We're having a baby," she replies shakily, dropping her head to his shoulder.

* * *

 **7 Weeks**

Eventually, he helps her up from the bathroom floor, wetting a washcloth so that she can wipe away the remnants of her tears. Fitz busies himself cleaning up the various pregnancy tests, tossing boxes and little instruction pamphlets into the trash, surreptitiously stashing one of the six positive tests into a drawer. He'll take a photo of it later, because he knows that when the shock wears off she's going to want to remember this moment.

They don't talk much that night, working in silence down in the Oval for a few hours, finally heading back to the Residence when the chef calls to ask where to send dinner. He watches her pick at her stir-fry, wanting to ask if she's nauseous, wanting to offer her something else, anything she wants, but he bites his tongue. She's already overwhelmed, bringing it up every five minutes won't help anything.

When Fitz comes back from brushing his teeth she's in bed already, fingers laced together and resting just beneath her breasts, staring up at the ceiling. It takes her a second to look over at him when he climbs into bed, and when she does her eyes are full of uncertainty. He doesn't look away, trying to be as silently supportive as he can, knowing that there's nothing he can say right now.

She's never felt more terrified. She doesn't know the first thing about being pregnant, or babies, or parenting. If anything, she's seen the _worst_ of what can happen, the most horrific examples of parenting and pregnancy. How is she supposed to do this? Is it even fair to this baby for her to try?

It's the most maddening feeling, being painfully conflicted, yet knowing without a doubt that the path she's chosen is the only path she'll be able to live with. For better or for worse, she can't _not_ have this baby. It would destroy him, and them, and eventually she knows it would destroy her too.

She can tell he's trying not to show his excitement.

He's trying so hard to keep himself in check, but she can see how happy he is, that he's _excited_ to have a baby with her. Even though she doesn't understand how he can possibly be excited about this, it's comforting on some level, it lets her start to imagine that maybe the world isn't ending, that maybe everything _will_ be okay eventually. She watches his eyes track down to her belly and linger there, right on the spot where something no bigger than a blueberry is living and growing inside of her. His hand creeps forward, but he immediately thinks better of it and stops, glancing up at her.

"Can I?" he asks quietly, hesitantly.

Holding his gaze for a moment, her eyes soften and she nods gently.

"Of course," she murmurs, pushing the sheet away and pulling her nightgown up for him.

Her belly is still flat and toned, but he rests his hand there anyway, as if he's silently greeting the tiny being. He leans forward, unable to resist pressing his lips to her skin, right above the lace band of her plum-colored underwear.

Suddenly, she's picturing a baby with caramel crème-colored skin, blue eyes, and beautiful curls, a little bit of each of them, and the image is so breathtaking that she really does lose her breath for a moment. Her eyes burn with tears, and she reaches down with her left hand to weave her fingers into his hair, scratching gently as he kisses her stomach one more time.

* * *

 **9 Weeks**

"Would you just get out," Olivia groans, resting her forehead against the toilet lid, "Don't you have other things to do?"

"Nope," he answers, "My morning schedules are light for the foreseeable future, so that I can be here with you if you need me."

"Well, I'm telling you that I _don't_ need you, why can't you just leave me here to vomit in peace?"

"I'm not leaving you on the bathroom floor, not happening."

"Fitz, this is so unnecessary. I'd really rather you didn't see me like this, it's embarrassing."

"Listen, if I'm going to watch you push out a baby, I can certainly sit here with you while you throw up a couple of times. This isn't even as messy as—"

"Oh my god," she interrupts, swallowing thickly as another wave of nausea washes over her.

She takes a couple of quick breaths, closing her eyes and trying to quell the sensation, but it's no use and she sits up on her knees to lean over the bowl again. Her stomach is empty at this point, so she's been stuck in an awful cycle of dry heaving for the past twenty minutes. This latest round is so uncomfortable that she can't help but whimper as it passes, weakly closing the toilet again and putting her head down. Fitz moves from his spot next to her and she can hear water running.

"Here," he murmurs, laying a cool wash cloth over the back of her neck, "Does that help?"

It does feel good, it seems to help her whole body cool down, taking away some of the flush caused by exertion.

"It does," she rasps, "That feels good."

Trying to focus on anything but the nausea, she keeps her eyes closed and tries to think of her favorite things; swimming, Fitz's smile, the view from the Truman Balcony…

She's aware that Fitz is moving around, but she's not really focused on what he's doing until the scent of peppermint starts to waft through the bathroom.

Picking her head up, she comes face to face with a tiny machine whirring quietly on the back of the toilet, small puffs of steam escaping periodically.

"What is that?"

"It's an essential oil infuser," he grins, sliding back down onto the floor behind her, ripping open a sleeve of saltines, "Peppermint oil always used to make me feel better when I had the flu, my mom used to use it. Is it helping?"

"Actually," she breathes, sitting up a bit straighter, "It's nice. _Really_ nice."

She scoots backward toward the wall where he's leaning, slumping over against his chest and taking a few more deep breaths. The peppermint oil is magical, gradually easing the nausea, soothing the waves that have been plaguing her for the past few hours. His arm slides around her, fingers stroking low on her stomach as he presses a kiss to her hair.

He waves a saltine in front of her. "Here, try one of these."

She makes a face, pushing his hand away.

"C'mon, Liv. You'll feel better with something in your stomach."

"No," she moans, "I'm in a delicate state, this is the first five minutes I've had all morning where my insides aren't trying to become outsides."

"Just a bite or two, you need to keep something down," he cajoles.

"How do you know what I need?" she snaps, suddenly annoyed with him, although she makes no move to leave his embrace.

He sighs, hand dropping into his lap, and they sit quietly for a few minutes.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes softly, taking the cracker from him, "I feel like crap. You're so—thank you, for staying with me."

"I love you, and I _want_ to be here with you. I don't want you going through the crappy parts by yourself, okay?"

Olivia sits up so that she can see his face, leaning in to his palm when he cups her cheek. He's looking at her the way he does, like she's his whole world, and she can't help but melt a little bit.

"Okay," she whispers, smiling gently, taking a tiny bite of the saltine.

* * *

 **10 Weeks**

Fitz walks into the residence for lunch to find her laying on the couch, watching the bubbles pop in a glass of ginger ale.

"Not feeling any better?" he asks sympathetically, sitting down near her feet.

"What do you think? I'm here in the middle of the day, aren't I?"

She's been in a particularly sour mood today, undoubtedly due to being hungry, yet not able to keep anything down because she's so nauseous.

"I'm sorry, Liv," he murmurs, rubbing her calf, "Does anything sound good for lunch? Hot? Cold? A sandwich, or a smoothie or something?"

He knows better by now than to talk about food too specifically, as even _mentioning_ the wrong thing can make her feel sick.

Groaning softly, she puts the ginger ale down and curls up facing the back of the couch, pulling her legs away from him. "No. I can't, even the crackers I tried this morning came back up. This baby hates me already."

"She doesn't hate you," Fitz disagrees softly.

"You don't know that. And stop using gender pronouns, it's annoying. We won't know the sex for months."

He can tell she needs to be left alone, that she can't tolerate any kind of conversation right now.

"I'll be in the dining room," he says softly, chancing a light squeeze to her shoulder as he walks by.

* * *

 **11 Weeks**

Her mood is hit or miss the following week, and Fitz continues to tread carefully, trying to be as supportive as he can. It's hard to watch her go through the morning sickness turned _all day_ sickness, on top of the fact that she still doesn't seem thrilled about being pregnant in the first place. She's really pulled away from him lately, and he can't tell if it's because she's been feeling so sick, or because she's so scared, but he wishes more than anything that she'd lean on him. He's trying to love her through it, but he can't help worrying that they're in for a tough nine months.

He's not sure how her day has been other than a quick e-mail to say she'd felt well enough to stay at OPA for the afternoon, so when he walks into the Residence that evening he's not really expecting her to be there.

Surprisingly, she _is_ there when he walks into the dining room, sitting at the long table by herself, a spoon in her mouth.

"Hi," she greets him immediately, her eyes wide and soft.

"Hi," he smiles, walking over to her, "You're eating."

She sighs, gratefully taking in another spoonful from the bowl in front of her. "I'm eating."

"Is that tomato soup? And grilled cheese?"

"Yeah," she smiles sheepishly, and it's the first time he's seen her smile in days, "We, um, we had a little chat earlier."

He raises his eyebrows. "We?"

"The baby and I," she explains, looking down into her bowl, her cheeks coloring a little bit, "I said, 'look, kid, you have to give me a break here. We need to find a food that you like before I waste away, or before I kill your dad because I'm so cranky.' And she apparently decided tomato soup and grilled cheese were acceptable."

"Well, that's great," he says, trying not to smile too widely, "I'm glad the two of you came to an understanding."

"I had Albie make some for you too, if you want."

She looks apprehensive, like he might not want to join her, which couldn't be further from the truth.

"Sure, I love tomato soup and grilled cheese," he shrugs, rolling up his sleeves.

As he moves to sit down she catches his hand, pulling him back to her. She finds his mouth, kissing him softly, her thumb tracing his jawline. When they break apart he pulls back to look at her, and everything is reflected in her eyes.

 _I'm trying. I'm still scared. I'm sorry. I love you._

* * *

 **12 Weeks**

Where is he?

They've rushed her back into a triage room, relocated everyone in the nearby rooms, and now she's waiting by herself. Her bare lower half is draped with the paper sheet they've given her, her heart is pounding, and where the _hell_ is he? Her mind races as she tries to lie still, focused on the ceiling tiles.

Why isn't he here yet?

Why does everything hurt so much?

Why are the walls painted such an ugly yellow color? She'd never paint her baby's room this color.

Is she bleeding all over the bed? It feels like she is, but she's too scared to look and she's not sure she even wants to know.

Why isn't he here? Secret Service promised that they'd get him to her.

All of a sudden, as apprehensive as she's been about the whole thing, the thought of losing the baby makes her feel sick. She's only just started trying on the idea of being a mom, and having it snatched away from her with no warning seems impossibly cruel.

If they're about to tell her that she's losing their baby, she needs him here, she needs him to hold her hand.

This can't be happening, not now. Not when she's only just started to catch herself with a hand unconsciously resting on her mostly-flat stomach, while she's working, eating dinner, talking on the phone. Not when she's just started to imagine Fitz with their child, playing with her, reading to her. Not when she's just begun to think of the baby as her little sidekick, letting herself greet him quietly each morning, talking to him throughout the day when no one else is around.

Just when she thinks she might go crazy if she has to sit in silence for one more second, Fitz crashes through the door in a panic, the blinds banging against the glass.

"Liv, what—are you—what's happening, they said—"

"I was bleeding," she croaks, "I'm—I was, I am, I don't know. I don't know, Fitz, I don't know anything, the doctor hasn't been in yet."

"Well, what the hell are they waiting for," he says irritably, pacing the room twice and moving to leave again, "I'm going to—"

"Fitz, please."

She sounds so scared that he turns back to her immediately, pausing with his hand on the door handle.

"Elise is coming, okay? She was in surgery, she's on her way. Don't leave me alone, come here and wait with me, please."

Instantly, his focus shifts and he's at her side, taking her hand.

"What happened?" he asks her softly, sinking down onto the stool next to the bed.

She's not crying, she just looks pale and scared, like she might be in shock. "I don't know, it all happened so fast. I realized I was bleeding, and it just looked like _so much_. As soon as I talked to a nurse she told me I needed to come in right away, because of how early I am, and they rushed me over here, and I've just been laying here, waiting—"

"Okay, calm down, take a deep breath."

"Fitz, what if—"

"Shh, don't. We don't know anything yet, like you said. Try to relax, okay? I'm with you, no matter what happens, I'm right here."

After what feels like an eternity, a soft knock on the door startles them both. Dr. Elise Stanton is a newer addition to the group of doctors cleared to treat members of The First Family. Olivia hadn't been thrilled about having to forego her own OB/GYN just because she was carrying the President's child, but she had taken to Elise instantly. Something about the woman's clear, honest eyes made her feel safe, made her feel comfortable asking questions and voicing concerns.

"I'm sorry guys, I was upstairs in a c-section, I came down as soon as I could. Liv, you're having a little bleeding?"

Olivia nods, watching as Elise washes her hands and pulls on a pair of gloves. "I was, I mean, I am, I don't know if it stopped or not, I noticed it about an hour ago."

Elise lifts the sheet at Liv's knees, quickly peeking at the linen beneath her.

"I don't see anything too concerning," she says, her smile soft and calming, "I have a few questions for you, but I'm not going to make you wait while I go through all of that, we'll chat in a few minutes. Let's just go ahead and take a look at baby, okay?"

"Okay," Liv breathes, watching nervously as Elise pulls the ultrasound machine closer and picks up a bottle of gel.

"This is gonna be cold, I'm sorry," she apologizes, folding the sheet down to expose her stomach, squeezing a generous amount of gel below her belly button, "Alright, baby, what's going on in there, huh?"

As soon as Elise presses the probe to her skin, the fuzzy waves on the screen disappear and are replaced with non-descript blobs, dark patches and bright spots. Liv glances up at Fitz, who gives her what he hopes is a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand back tightly. She doesn't realize she's holding her breath until she starts to feel light-headed, and she quickly takes a couple of deep breaths, eyes focused on the ultrasound screen.

Elise zeroes in on a spot that seems to be bouncing a little bit, winking at them, and as she zooms in and changes her angle a tiny profile appears.

Liv sucks in a breath. "Is that—"

"There we go, hi baby," Elise murmurs, smiling and reaching forward to twist a knob on the machine.

The most beautiful sound fills the room, a rhythmic whooshing pulse, a strong heartbeat.

"Your baby looks just fine," she assesses softly, starting to take a few pictures and measurements, leaving the sound up so that they can hear the baby's heart, "Nice steady heart rate, and little one is sitting in a great spot. Looks pretty comfy in there to me."

Before Elise has even finished speaking Liv dissolves into tears of relief, covering her face with her hands.

"Everything's okay," Fitz soothes, leaning over her when she reaches for him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Trying to stay out of Elise's way, he nuzzles his face into her neck, holding her as best he can.

"I was scared," she sobs quietly against his ear, "I was so scared, I thought—I've been so—I really want this baby, I want him."

"Sweetheart, I know you do. She's fine, everything's fine."

"I thought that I did it, that I didn't want him enough. I've been complaining so much, and being horrible to you."

"Hey," he breathes, pulling away to cradle her face, "You haven't done anything wrong. You're new to all of this, it was so unexpected, and you're scared. There's nothing wrong with that, you're entitled to feel all of those things."

She nods, closing her eyes as a fresh wave of tears overwhelms her.

"And as for me, you take it out on me all you want, don't worry about that. I can take it," he smiles, resting his forehead on hers.

Laughing through her tears, she pulls him back to her, squeezing tight. He stays close until she's calmer, murmuring reassurances until her tears slow. Elise is still scanning her abdomen when Fitz pulls away, standing up to grab a handful of tissues.

"You know what, Liv—didn't we do an ultrasound at eight weeks?" Elise asks, brows furrowed.

Olivia thinks for a moment, wiping her eyes with the tissue he hands her. "We did, a quick one. Just to confirm that I was pregnant."

"I'll have to look through your chart, but I must not have scanned your ovaries. It looks like you had a fairly large cyst that just burst, I think that's what's causing the bleeding."

"Is that, I mean, will that affect the pregnancy?" Fitz asks, sitting back down beside her.

"Not at all," Elise explains kindly, "It's totally unrelated. I don't see any other cysts, and this baby looks great. Are you in pain at all?"

Again, Liv has to think for a second, trying to get past all of the adrenaline coursing through her system. "I'm…achy. I thought I was cramping earlier but that's not really it, it's more of a general ache."

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear," Elise nods, "What you're describing is exactly what can happen with these cysts. I want you to call me if the bleeding hasn't stopped by tomorrow night, and I want you to come in for a re-check ultrasound next week, okay? And obviously if it gets any worse go straight to the emergency room, but I really don't think that will happen."

Olivia takes a deep breath. "Okay, thank you Elise. Thank you for dropping everything to come down here."

Elise reaches out to squeeze her hand, smiling at them. "Not a problem at all, anything for my favorite patients. I can't wait to watch this little one grow, I'm sure he or she is going to be beautiful."

* * *

 **16 Weeks**

She's standing at the sink in her cream silk bathrobe, putting the finishing touches on her makeup, when she catches him staring at her out of the corner of her eye.

"I know what you're staring at, just come over here and get it out of your system," she smirks, dusting the powder brush over her nose one more time.

Fitz walks over and wraps his arms around her from behind, smiling at her in the mirror.

"You're showing," he grins, sliding his hands down to cup her slightly swollen belly.

"I know," she murmurs, "It's nice to know all of that puking wasn't for nothing, I really _was_ growing a baby."

He laughs, continuing to run his hands over her bump. "Can you feel him yet?"

"Not really. I think I've felt little 'flutters', as the book says, but nothing that made me stop and take notice—Fitz, you know I would tell you if I felt him moving for the first time, right?"

She turns around and wraps her arms around his waist, looking up at him seriously.

He shrugs, looking down and then meeting her eyes. "We just don't talk about it that much. I want to share in all of it with you, but I don't want you to feel like I'm crowding you."

"You're not crowding me," she breathes, eyes widening, "Look, I know I've been less than enthusiastic about being pregnant—"

"Liv, you cried for three hours when you found out," he deadpans.

She pinches his side, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. "Tease me about that again and see what happens."

He smiles, pulling her closer. "Sorry, sorry, go on."

"I'm anxious about it, still," she continues, sobering, "But, I…I feel a lot more connected to him these days, especially now that we know that 'he' is _actually_ a him. I love that he's ours, and I—I'm starting to imagine what he might look like, what it will be like to hold him. And it _is_ pretty cool that he's swimming around in there as we speak. The point is, you don't have to walk on eggshells, okay?"

"So, if I want to do this," he says, sinking to his knees and untying her robe to press his lips to her belly, "I can?"

Liv giggles and looks down at him. "I don't quite understand the need, but go for it, mister."

One of her hands unconsciously drifts into his hair, lightly pressing him forward. His lips are warm against her skin, and his hands feel good where they've landed on her hips, gripping gently. She's suddenly keenly aware that between her nausea and anxiety, they haven't engaged in their favorite activity very much lately.

Fitz picks up on the change in her breathing, smiling against her skin. "Anything else I can take care of while I'm down here?"

"I mean, since you're—" Her breath hitches and she moans quietly when his mouth ghosts over her inner thighs, nipping with his teeth.

He carefully walks her back a couple of steps so that she's leaning against the vanity, sliding his fingers back and forth beneath the waistband of her underwear. Her knees threaten to buckle when he exhales hotly against her center, humming contentedly, pressing his tongue against her clit through the lace.

He peels her panties off and makes her come in less than three minutes, which might be some kind of record. She's panting softly when he stands, wrapping her up in his arms, kissing her slowly.

"That was…intense," she breathes, kissing him again because her hands are shaking and her body is still thrumming with arousal.

"Mmm. You think it's because you're pregnant?"

"Maybe," she answers absently, playing with his belt buckle, her eyes dark and hazy, "Do we have time to—"

He moans into her mouth, lifting her onto the counter. "We'll make time."

* * *

 **18 Weeks**

"I don't look pregnant in this one, do I?"

Fitz finishes signing a document and looks up, gesturing for her to turn sideways. Her bump is still small, but she's so petite that it's fairly obvious, particularly because she's refused to invest in any maternity clothing thus far. Even her looser wrap dresses, like the one she's wearing now, aren't hiding anything anymore. She's tried on nearly every dress and shirt in the closet this afternoon, unsuccessfully trying to find a few pieces to wear during his final public appearances as POTUS next week.

"Umm," he tries awkwardly, making a skeptical face.

Her shoulders slump and she groans, walking over to the couch and collapsing next to him.

"This is your fault," she says abruptly, pointing her finger at him.

"How do you figure, Livvie?"

"Clearly, this kid is already in the ninety-fifth percentile for height. He's going to be tall like you, and he's all stretched out in there, making me huge already."

Fitz doesn't mean to laugh at her but he can't hold it in, letting his head fall back against the couch. These little dramatic moments are so out of character for her that he can't help but find them adorable.

"Okay, first of all, you are not 'huge' by any stretch of the imagination," he starts, resting his palm over the baby, "You are gorgeous."

Olivia rolls her eyes at him, glancing down to where his hand is resting on her belly.

"Second of all, the reason you feel so huge is most likely because…"

He stops, cautiously, giving her a meaningful look.

"Because my clothes don't fit anymore," she sighs, covering his hand with her own.

"It's not even that they don't fit," Fitz says quickly, "This dress, looks incredibly sexy on you."

He murmurs the words as he leans forward, nuzzling her neck, trailing his lips down the vee of the dress and over the tops of her breasts.

She sighs, cupping the back of his neck to encourage him, her skin flushing immediately. "Fitz…don't start something we can't finish right now."

Pulling his mouth away, he presses a kiss to her lips, leaning down to kiss her belly, too.

"Listen, if you want to keep this little guy a secret for as long as possible, which I know you do, you might have to start getting creative."

"Well then I'm going to have to make some phone calls, because I can't just go shopping. The second I walk into a maternity store—"

"Hold that thought," he smiles, leaning back to press the call button on the landline sitting next to him.

Almost immediately, one of the White House stylists opens the bedroom door and pokes her head in.

"Sir? Is it time?"

Liv sits up, looking thoroughly confused. "Time for what?"

"Thanks, Laura, you can send it all in now, Larry too."

"Fitz, what—"

Laura quickly busies herself throwing the double doors open, and Olivia watches in shock as attendants start to wheel racks of clothes into the room.

"Ms. Pope?"

Liv realizes Laura is now standing next to her, trying to get her attention.

"What is all this?"

"I've selected a pretty wide variety of pieces, ma'am, most of them are in your preferred color palate but there's a rack of other colors and a rack of patterns, too. There are maternity pieces and regular pieces, and Larry is here to tailor anything you like so that it fits perfectly," Laura explains, gesturing to a man standing near the door holding a tape measure.

Liv looks at him with an incredulous smile, and he sits up to press a kiss to her cheek.

"I've got you covered, Livvie."

* * *

 **22 Weeks**

The backyard of their new house is a ridiculous mess, in desperate need of grooming. They'd completely renovated the inside of the historic home before moving in, but the landscaping had fallen to the wayside in the midst of it all. Olivia had assumed they would simply hire someone to do the job, but Fitz had surprised her, announcing that he wanted to do it all himself, that it would be a great project for his first few months out of office.

Sunday afternoons in particular are reserved for yardwork, and today Fitz is determined to weed, fertilize, and till the three large raised garden beds in the corner of their property. It's not a particularly hot day, but after a couple hours of working in the sun he's hot and sweaty.

As soon as he peels his tee shirt off he hears a whistle from across the yard, and he glances over toward the shaded patio where Liv is working. He playfully twirls the shirt over his head, gyrating his hips awkwardly, and he can see her laughing, shaking her head.

They've made it.

They're on the other side.

He's not the President anymore, and they don't owe anyone _anything_. They can have their privacy, something they desperately need right now, and they can focus on each other, which is exactly what they're doing. She commutes into D.C. from Alexandria for work, carefully using OPA's back entrance so that no one gets wind of her pregnancy, and Fitz is in the midst of some much needed time off.

Fitz bends down to pick up a shovel, starting to dig into the enormous pile of fertilizer that he's dumped next to the beds. It's almost planting season, and he's already planning the layout of the garden, tomatoes in one corner, lettuce and kale in another corner—

"Fitz!"

The pitch of her voice makes him drop his shovel, and he turns around to see her leaning forward, hands over her belly, an unreadable expression on her face. Before he's even processed what's happening, he's running to her.

"Liv," he calls, jogging over, dropping to his knees in front of her, "What's wrong? Are you—"

A laugh bubbles out of her and she looks up at him. "Nothing's wrong, I'm sorry. He just moved, I mean _really_ moved, more than those flutters I was talking about."

"Oh," he breathes, the panic leaving his system, "That's—wow, you scared me. That's great, Liv."

She's smiling, sitting very still. "He's still doing it, here, see if you can feel it."

He lets her guide his hand over to the left side of her belly, placing it specifically and covering it with her own.

"Did you feel that one?" she asks after a moment, and he shakes his head, smiling at the way she's watching her belly, the breeze slightly ruffling her curls.

They wait a few more seconds, until he feels an unmistakable thump against his palm.

" _That_ one I felt," he laughs, rubbing her stomach gently, "Hey buddy, you're getting so big in there."

Liv adjusts her tank top, which is stretched tight. "Tell me about it, I can't believe I'm only halfway there. I really can't imagine this belly growing for another four months."

"You're gonna waddle," he teases, standing up, backing toward the yard.

"You know what, don't you have work to do? Get out of here," she laughs, sticking her tongue out at him.

* * *

 **25 Weeks**

Olivia strolls out of the walk-in closet in her underwear, crossing over to the bed with one thing on her mind.

She is _horny_.

Their lovemaking is already incredible, the most satisfying, connected sex either of them has ever had. But, her pregnancy has added the new element of frequency. She wants him _all the damn time_. Aside from their many years apart, they've always had a great sex life, never going more than a few days without, but things are getting ridiculous at this point. As soon as her nausea had faded completely around fifteen weeks, it was replaced with desire, and she's been a little insatiable ever since.

Fitz glances up from the book he's reading in bed and does a double take. She is simultaneously the hottest and most adorable pregnant woman he's ever seen, and he knows he's completely biased, but she is _beautiful_. Her bra and underwear match today, navy blue with lots of lace detail, and his eyes are immediately drawn to the slight movement of her breasts as she walks, the new roundness of her hips as they cradle her generous baby bump.

Pregnancy looks _good_ on Olivia Pope.

Plucking the book from his hands, she climbs into his lap, sighing softly as she captures his lips in a kiss.

"Again?" he mumbles between kisses, alluding to the fact that she'd already woken him up for sex early this morning, "You know, I'm starting to feel a little used."

Olivia giggles threading her fingers into his hair, pressing herself as close to him as she can with her bump in the way. "Really, mister? You're seriously going to complain that we're having too much sex?"

"I'm not complaining about the sex, I'm complaining about the approach," he rasps, his breath catching when she gently scrapes her teeth over his neck, "You don't sweet-talk me, there are no candles, and you've _never_ bought me dinner."

His hands slip into her underwear and cup her ass, rocking her over his lap, and she moans appreciatively. "God, you smell so good…I don't need to do any of that, you're easy."

"I'm easy by choice, I could just as easily say no."

She pulls away and gives him an incredulous look. "You would deny your pregnant girlfriend sex?"

They stare at each other for a moment while he tries to figure out if they're still bantering, or if he's actually pissed her off. He gets his answer when a smile creeps back onto her face and she reaches behind her back, unhooking her bra.

He's not entirely proud of the fact that he loves her full, pregnant boobs so much, but he's only human and he can't help it. Supporting her with his hands across her back, he tips her backward so he can kiss across her chest, taking a nipple into his mouth.

"Of course not…I'd never deny you…you are so fucking sexy…"

Her hands weave back into his hair, holding him against her breast as he runs his tongue over the sensitive peak.

"Fitz," she whimpers, "I want… _oh_ …"

* * *

 **29 Weeks**

"So…the baby is my brother? It's a boy baby?"

The three of them are sitting on the couch in their living room, Teddy situated in the middle.

"Yup, the baby is a boy, and he's your little brother," Fitz explains patiently, watching as Teddy concentrates, trying to make sense of the situation.

Teddy hasn't been too interested in Olivia's pregnancy up until this particular weekend visit. They'd told him that they were going to have a new baby, but without the tangible evidence in front of him the whole concept had been a bit too abstract for the almost six-year-old. However, now that she has a substantial baby bump, he's gotten intensely curious.

"The baby is in there?" he asks, pointing to Liv's belly.

"Yup, that's where he grows, big and strong," she answers, her hands sliding down to cup her bump.

"When my friend Manuel got a baby brother, my teacher said that brothers are people who have the same mommy and daddy…but Liv isn't my mommy, Mommy is."

They glance at each other, surprised that he's followed through that far in his thought process.

"Well," Fitz starts, "Sometimes brothers just have one parent that's the same. I'm your Daddy, and I'm the baby's Daddy, too. You're right, you and the baby don't have the same mommy, but you have the same daddy, so you're still brothers."

Teddy takes a few seconds to think about Fitz's explanation, zooming the small toy ambulance he's playing with along the edge of the couch.

"Oh, okay," he shrugs, satisfied with that explanation.

Liv chuckles under her breath, amused by how easygoing the little boy is.

Fitz peppers him with a few more questions about school, his friends, his recent field trip (to the White House, of all places), before Teddy turns his attention back to Olivia.

"The baby is in your belly, Liv?" he asks, scooting closer to her in fascination.

"Yep," she replies, picking up her water glass, "He's all squished up in there."

"You ate him?"

She nearly chokes on her water, and Fitz bursts into laughter beside them before quickly getting ahold of himself. Teddy smiles, realizing he's said something funny but not understanding what it was.

Swallowing hard, she quickly gets rid of the mouthful of water and clears her throat. "Not exactly, bud."

"How did he—"

"Hey, he's moving, do you want to feel him?" Olivia interrupts, excitedly, really wanting to avoid the question he was about to ask.

"He moves?"

"He does, he kicks me all the time."

"My teacher says kicking isn't allowed. It's not nice to kick people."

"He doesn't mean to do it," she explains, "He's just a baby, he doesn't know any better. But when he's bigger, you can teach him that it's not nice, right?"

Teddy smiles, liking the idea of getting to teach his little brother something. "Okay!"

"Here, come here and give me your hands."

He puts his ambulance down and crawls over to her, letting her taking his hands and lay them over the spot where she can feel little feet, pushing on her.

"We have to be still, very still and quiet, and we'll feel him, okay?"

"Okay," he whispers, waiting as patiently as a kindergartner can.

Luckily it's not long before the baby shifts, pressing against their hands, trying to stretch out and roll around.

Teddy looks up at her with wide eyes. "That's my brother?"

"Yup, that's him. He's saying hi to us," Liv smiles.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for reading! Leave a review and let me know what you thought! Part II will go through more of Liv's last trimester, and snippets from the birth.**


	22. The Firsts: Pregnancy Edition II

**A/N: Here is part II! I'd recommend you read Pregnancy Edition part I before you read this, if you haven't. Before writing this chapter, I've only "felt" what Liv was feeling as I wrote it one other time, but writing the moment that Micah is born hit me RIGHT in the feels. I hope it hits you in the feels too!**

* * *

 **30 Weeks**

Olivia comes home from work one evening carrying a cardboard delivery box, and Fitz watches as she walks straight into the kitchen, slicing the box open with a pair of scissors.

"Hey," he calls from the living room, "What's that? How was work?"

When she comes back she's carrying a stack of books, setting them down on the coffee table as she sits next to him on the couch.

"I want to talk to you about something."

He starts to read the book titles off the spines.

 _Ina May's Guide to Childbirth_

 _Natural Childbirth the Bradley Way_

 _Active Birth: The New Approach to Giving Birth Naturally_

"You want to talk to me about natural childbirth?" he guesses, raising his eyebrows.

She takes a deep breath, looking determined. "I want to try to have him without any interventions. I've been doing a lot of research, and it's something I really want to do."

"Okay," he says, slightly surprised, "I mean, it's your body, you should do whatever you think is right. I'm surprised, I didn't know you were even thinking about it."

"I've been thinking about it a lot lately. I think I was in denial toward the beginning of all of this, but, at some point this kid is going to have to come out," she says, eyes widening.

"Well, yeah," he chuckles.

Her hands slide down to cup her belly, and she leans back into the couch. "I figured I should at least attempt to prepare. I don't like the idea of being hooked up to wires and IVs while I'm in labor, I want to be able to move around, and I _really_ don't like the idea of a giant needle in my back. I've read some things about epidurals making babies really sleepy after birth, and then they don't want to breastfeed right away, and I want to nurse him—the point is, I just feel like I should let nature take it's course, within reason obviously. I mean, my body is going to know what to do, why fight it?"

"Hey, you don't have to convince me," Fitz agrees, putting his hands up, "I'm just along for the ride, Liv, you have to do the hard part."

"Well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about," she starts, carefully, "If I'm going to do this, I'm really going to need you, I'm going to need you to coach me. Would you—are you okay with that?"

He smiles, reaching for her hand. "Of course I'm okay with it, I'll do whatever you need. It looks like you got us plenty of stuff to prepare with, so, if this is something you really want, I'll do anything I can to help you."

"Good," she breathes, looking relieved.

"Did you think I would say no?"

"I just wasn't sure what you'd be up for. I know you were there when your other kids were born, but we haven't really talked about what it was like."

"I mean, feel like we had pretty typical birth experiences. She had an epidural with Gerry and Karen, and Teddy came so fast that there was no time for one, but I was only there for the very end. Doing this with you though—having this baby with you is already a completely different experience, you know that right?"

She smiles softly, knowing exactly what he means. "I know. And if a natural birth doesn't work out I'm okay with it, as long as he's healthy and safe, that's all I want. But I really want to try."

* * *

 **32 Weeks**

"What about Nathaniel? Nathan?"

She wrinkles her nose at him, shaking her head as she warms cocoa butter between her palms.

"How about Carter?" he offers, scrolling through the list of names on his laptop.

Olivia shakes her head, smearing the cocoa butter over her belly and starting to gently rub it in. "Mmm-mmm. Do you even like that name or are you just throwing names out?"

"I'm just trying to come up with options, what's wrong with Carter? Carter Grant? That sounds pretty good."

" _Everything_ sounds good with Grant for some reason, we can't use that as our yardstick."

"Logan?"

"Stop picking names that are so trendy, I don't want him to have the same name as four other kids in his class."

"Alright…Lucas?"

"Nope."

"Caleb?"

"No," she sighs, shaking her head indecisively.

He closes the laptop, pushing it aside and laying down next to her. "I give up. We'll just name him Baby Grant and call it a day."

She laughs, rubbing the remaining cocoa butter onto her legs and pulling her shirt down. "I'm sorry, this whole naming thing is really nerve-wracking. I mean, it's his _name_. It's what people are going to call him his whole life, we can't screw this up."

"We're not going to screw it up unless we don't actually pick one. It's not like we're contemplating naming him after an inanimate object, or food."

"You're probably right. But, I still feel like we need to see his face before we pick a name for sure. I think when we see him, we'll know if we picked the right one."

He smiles at her, reaching over to rest a hand on her belly. "That still requires us to have a couple of possibilities, Livvie."

Sighing, she maneuvers onto her side so that she can lean into the crook of his arm, motioning for him to pull up the list of names online again.

"Are you still okay with using Pope as his middle name?"

"Of course," he nods, pulling up the website.

"Good. Skip the first twelve pages," she suggests, "That should get us into some less popular names. Let's try to pick three, and then when he's born we'll decide which one. Deal?"

"Deal," Fitz agrees.

They silently skim the list of names as Fitz scrolls, waiting for anything to jump out at them.

"Desi?"

"Like Desi Arnaz," she smiles, "That's not bad."

"Maybe he'll grow up and marry a redhead."

Liv chuckles, reaching over to click on to the next page.

"Raffael?"

"Isn't that one of the Ninja Turtles?"

"Liv…"

"I'm sorry! I'm just giving my knee-jerk reactions here."

"What about Emmanuel?"

She tips her head in thought, weighing the name. "That one's not bad either."

"Okay, that one's a maybe. Let's see…Micah?"

Silence.

He glances down to find her staring at the screen, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Micah," she repeats, "Micah Pope Grant. I love that."

"I do too, actually," Fitz grins, "I wasn't sure about it until you said it out loud."

"That one is on the list, for sure."

* * *

 **35 Weeks**

 _White House Correspondents' Dinner 2017_

 _Tonight, former President Fitzgerald Grant and his long-time girlfriend Olivia Pope shocked the country by announcing that they are expecting their first child together…soon! The couple have kept an extremely low profile since President Grant's final term ended in January, making zero public appearances and carefully protecting the location of their new digs. Reporters were shocked when Ms. Pope showed up on President Grant's arm tonight, sporting a sizeable baby bump!_

 _E! News exclusively caught up with the couple during their limited stint on the red carpet:_

E!: Hey guys! Great to see you!

FTG: Yeah! It's great to be here. This is nuts, actually, we've never done one of these before.

E!: It's a little crazy, that's for sure, but we're so glad you're here.

FTG: You know, former Presidents don't normally come to this thing, but, Madame President invited us herself, so, we couldn't pass it up.

E!: It's another night for the history books, really, first female President's first remarks at the White House Correspondents' Dinner.

FTG: Yes! I can't wait to hear her speech, I'm sure it will be hilarious.

E!: We're all looking forward to it. Olivia! Wow!

OP: I know! ::laughs::

E!: This is quite a shock!

OP: Surprise! ::laughs::

E!: You look gorgeous, how are you feeling?

OP: Oh, thank you. I feel really good!

E!: You two must be the best secret keepers in the whole country, how on earth did you pull this off?

FTG: We have great partners in the Secret Service, our agents are amazing. We really wanted to have this time for ourselves, and they helped us make that happen.

E!: I'm sure, no one messes with the Secret Service.

FTG: Right! ::laughs::

E!: Now, do you know the gender?

OP: Well, hang on, we won't really know the gender until he or she grows up and decides what to wear to prom. ::laughs::

E!: Of course, of course ::laughs::, excuse me, do you know the _sex_ of the baby?

FTG: We do! But we're keeping it a secret.

E!: C'mon, not even for E!?

OP: No way, you'll have to wait for the birth announcement like everyone else.

E!: Darn it! ::laughs:: Well, congratulations you two, it's been such a pleasure to chat with you. Have fun in there!

FTG: We will, thank you!

OP: Thank you!

* * *

 **37 Weeks**

When Fitz comes back from his meeting in the afternoon she's already home, sitting cross-legged on the couch with her shirt pulled up.

"Hi," he greets her, smirking, "You're home early."

"I'm so tired," she admits, laughing a little bit, "And he's wiggling so much today, I couldn't concentrate on anything. Come look at this."

Fitz puts his laptop bag down and kneels in front of her, rubbing his hands over her large belly and pressing a kiss to it before he pulls back to look. He watches as her bump lurches gently back and forth, smiling in awe as a limb pokes out a bit and ripples down her side.

She winces at a sharper movement, gently pressing her hands down against the baby's feet. "He's been doing this _all_ day, kicking me in that same rib. Normally if I do a few laps around the table he'll settle, at least a little bit, but today, no dice."

"He knows his eviction notice is coming," he jokes, "He's getting restless with anticipation in there."

"Well that makes two of us. If he gets any bigger I'm not going to be able to walk around."

Fitz laughs, plopping down next to her. "I'm getting really excited."

She takes a breath, like she's trying to keep from smiling but then can't help it. "Me too. I'm…I'm terrified, actually, but at the same time I'm ready to meet him."

"You're going to be fine," he reassures her, "You're ready, we've practiced the breathing and the visualization, and I'm going to be with you the whole time."

"I know, it's just so unknown. And part of me feels like pushing him out is going to be the easy part, after he's born, that's when the _real_ work starts."

"It's also when the fun starts. We get to watch him learn to crawl, and walk, and try his first food, and go on his first date."

"First food to first date is a hell of a jump," she laughs.

"Have you ever held a newborn before?"

She shakes her head, rubbing a hand over her belly. "I haven't, but I've heard it's pretty special."

"It's special no matter what, but when it's your own kid? There's nothing like it. They're so warm and cuddly, you're going to love it."

He smiles at her and they get quiet for a little while, watching her belly shift and ripple.

"Do you think I'll be a good mom?"

Her voice is soft and tentative, and when he meets her eyes he's shocked to see that they're full of tears.

"Oh, Liv, I think you'll be a _great_ mom," he murmurs.

She stares at him for a moment, her chin trembling. "Really?"

"Of course. You're warm and kind, you know how to listen and how to be patient. You're a good person, and you'll be a great role model for him, that's one of the best things you can do as a parent."

"I just want—" she breaks off to collect herself, "—I just want to be better for him, better than what I had. I don't ever want him to feel abandoned, or alone, like I did, I want to be there for him—"

"—and you will be. Listen to me, you are not either of your parents, okay? You would never do to him what they did to you, you're a completely different person. You're going to be an incredible mom."

Olivia nods, wiping her eyes, grateful for the reassurance. He leans in, pressing a long kiss to her mouth, smiling at her when they break apart.

"Want me to read to him? Try to get him to settle down?" he asks, softly.

She smiles, cradling her belly. "Lets watch him for a couple more minutes."

* * *

 **39 Weeks, 2 Days, and 11 Hours…**

She's cranky.

"' _Have a baby'_ , they said."

"Eh, technically no one told you to have a baby."

"' _It'll be fun'_ , they said."

"Again," he argues, "No one specifically told you this was gonna be fun."

She shoots a glare at him. "You're not helping."

"Maybe you shouldn't think about the fact that you still have a week to go, and think about the fact that you only have a week left," he tries.

"I don't feel like I have a week left, these Braxton-Hicks contractions stopped feeling like 'practice' two days ago."

They've been camped out in the house for the past two days, on high alert for labor to start.

"I don't know, Liv, don't you think if things were going to pick up soon they would have by now?"

"What are you asking me for? I've never done this before."

"I think we should time a few, just to see where we're at, they seem pretty far apart to me but I could be wrong."

"I think I'd know if I were in labor, but you do what you want. I have to pee again."

Fitz watches as she hauls her very pregnant body out of the armchair, and makes her way down the hall. Unlocking his phone, he pulls up the contraction timer app he'd downloaded months ago, and messes around with it for a while.

"Fitz!"

The volume of her voice makes him shoot out of his chair.

She's frozen in the hallway, seemingly on her way back from the bathroom.

"I think my water is breaking," she announces, eyes wide.

"What do you mean you 'think'?"

As they stand there, a small gush of fluid hits the hard wood floor.

"Okay, it's breaking, oh my god, it's breaking right now—"

"Calm down, it's okay, lets go back in the bathroom."

He gently grasps her forearms and guides her back into the bathroom, helping her step into the tub.

"Hang tight, let me go get a towel," he mumbles.

When he tries to turn away she won't let go of his arms, and when he looks back at her their eyes lock for a few seconds.

"We're—we're going to have a baby," she stammers, squeezing his forearms.

He smiles reassuringly. "Yeah, we are."

* * *

 **39 Weeks, 2 Days, and 17 Hours…**

When they check her at the hospital she's almost five centimeters dilated, halfway there.

"Halfway, Liv," Fitz encourages, helping her roll back onto her side.

Despite wanting the option to move around, she's been most comfortable laboring on her side so far, holding Fitz's hand and closing her eyes through each contraction.

"Did we want to do anything for pain management?" their nurse asks, flipping through Olivia's chart.

Fitz looks down at her, knowing that she's been managing the contractions well so far but wanting to give her the option, now that they're here. She shakes her head, squeezing his hand and pulling in a deep breath as another one starts.

"No, and she'd prefer it not be offered anymore," he explains to the nurse, who nods kindly.

"No problem at all, I'll make a note of it in her chart."

As the nurse leaves, he turns the lights down and gets back into position, smoothing his thumb over her temple.

She breathes through contraction after contraction, keeping her inhales and exhales slow and even. They chat in between, as much as they can, until she can't anymore, trying to conserve her energy.

Fitz can see her pain level increasing as the hours go on, in the furrow of her brows, the tightness of her shoulders.

"Try to stay relaxed," he reminds her gently, resting his hand between her shoulder blades, "Right here, let this go."

She relaxes her shoulders, releasing a long breath. "They feel different now…they're more intense."

"You're doing great, it's nothing you can't handle."

All of a sudden she looks scared, meeting his eyes. "I don't know how much longer I can do this."

"Don't think about that," he coaches, bringing their preparation into play, "We're just going to focus on the next contraction. We'll get you through that one, and then we'll think about the one after that, right? All you have to do is breathe through the next one."

"Okay," she breathes, "Okay, you're right. I can do this."

* * *

 **39 Weeks, 2 Days, and 21 Hours…**

Olivia's pretty sure that she's dying.

She's crying and moaning, restlessly switching positions on the bed between contractions, squeezing Fitz's hand and trying to stare at his eyes to keep herself grounded.

The pain is so intense that she's really having trouble staying focused enough to breath through it, and Fitz can tell that they need to try something else. She's panicking, and she's tense, all of her muscles seizing up instead of letting go. He breathes with her through the next one, and as soon as it's over she breaks down.

"I don't think I can do this," she sobs, "I want to but it's…I don't think I can."

He's immediately in cheerleader mode, fully prepared to coach her. "I promise you can, Liv, you're doing great. Do you want to try another position? Something other than laying down might be better."

She nods vigorously, looking at him gratefully, and he springs into action before the next contraction can hit her, helping her onto her hands and knees. He can tell she's past the point of being able to tell him what she needs, and that now it's his job to offer suggestions, to help her figure it out.

As soon as the pain starts, she gasps and starts to shake her head. " _Oh_ , my back, no, no, no, not like this."

Fitz quickly helps her straighten up onto her knees, standing next to the bed so that she can rest her forehead on his chest through the duration of the contraction. As he listens to her breathe, he eyes the birthing ball in the corner, already draped with absorbent hospital padding and ready for her to use.

When the pain ebbs away, he grabs the ball and a stool. "Here, try this, I'll sit in front of you."

He holds the ball still while she positions herself on it, pulling the stool into place so that he can sit in front of her. Immediately, her face relaxes a little bit and she closes her eyes, taking a deep breath.

"This feels better on my hips," she breathes, lips trembling, "I just feel so much pressure."

"That's because he's coming, Liv, you're doing it. Here, now lean on me like this. Just relax and breathe, I've got you," he soothes, guiding her into his arms.

She lets her upper body lean forward against him, her head coming to rest comfortably on his shoulder, and instantly she can tell this is going to work. It feels so much better to be upright, to not be fighting gravity and the immense downward push she feels with each wave of pain. Being in his arms is mentally soothing, she feels safer somehow, like she can close her eyes and focus solely on breathing. Her muscles finally relax and she lets him hold her up through the next contraction, breathing with him, moaning low in her throat. The pain is horrendous, but sitting like this, it's more manageable than before.

"This is better, I can do it like this, just don't leave me," she whispers, head on his shoulder.

He can tell how scared she is because she's asked him a few times not to leave her, as if he would. "I'm not going anywhere, don't even think about that. I'm going to be with you every second until our boy is out, and then for the next fifty years after that."

He's happy to feel her laugh for a second, before the next contraction hits and they're back to breathing, living in two-minute increments.

* * *

 **39 Weeks, 2 Days, and 23 Hours…**

When they tell her it's finally time to start pushing, pulling her out of the trance-like state she's been in to manage her pain, she feels panicked. Without Fitz's solid, safe embrace, she feels lost again as he and her nurse, Lina, help her back onto the bed.

"Alright, Olivia, you ready?"

Immediately, she looks to Fitz, relieved to find that he hasn't left her side.

"I'm scared," she whispers, squeezing his hand.

"I know, it's okay to be scared. _You can do this_. We're going to meet our son soon."

She nods as he leans in, kissing her forehead.

Lina gets into position, smiling kindly. "With the next contraction, I want you to take a deep breath, curl up with your chin down and pull your legs back. We're gonna push for ten seconds, okay?"

She follows Lina's instructions, and when she starts to push she's shocked by how _good_ it feels. It gives her something to do, something else to focus on besides the pain, and it's such a relief to push with the intense pressure, to know that her baby is moving, that he'll be here soon.

"That's awesome," Lina encourages from the end of the bed, "Let's do two more, just like that. Big breath in, and push, two, three, four…"

* * *

Forty minutes later, she's exhausted.

She's crying again, shaking her head back and forth. "I can't…I can't anymore, he's not moving, is he? Is he okay?"

"Olivia, I promise he's moving down, you're doing great. His heart rate is so strong, he's holding up just fine. Dad, do you want to sit behind her? Help her get into position?"

Fitz has been coaching her through each round of pushing, an unwavering supportive presence at her side, and he doesn't hesitate to slide behind her on the bed. Just as she settles back against him, a contraction rises up and slams into her.

"Fitz, _oh my god_ , Fitz."

He props her up and helps pull her legs back, putting his mouth next to her ear. "Push, Liv. I'm right here. Keep going, you're doing it, he's almost here."

* * *

The last twenty minutes before her son is born are an out-of-body experience.

Her hips feel like they're about to split open, and the only thing that provides any semblance of relief is pushing. Lina doesn't have to tell her to push anymore, she's pushing involuntarily, and her body has completely taken over. She closes her eyes and detaches, only aware of Fitz's voice in her ear, reassuring her that their son is almost here, that this isn't going to go on forever. She can hear other voices, other people coming into the room, but everything is on the periphery, it's all blurry and distant.

And then suddenly they're yelling at her to stop pushing, and when she opens her eyes Lina is gone and Elise is getting in to place, eyes smiling softly over the top of her mask. She feels Fitz's warmth disappear as he gets off the bed, but she can't focus on that because of the _burning_ , and _stretching_ , and for the first time all day she cries out because it's so overwhelming.

Elise is saying something, and it takes all of her strength to focus on what it is. "Okay, one more big push. Let's have a baby, open your eyes, Liv, he's coming!"

She takes a deep breath and pushes one more time, opening her eyes just in time to watch Elise guide her baby out into the world.

"There we go! Happy Birthday little one, here he is, Mama."

Elise places his soft, pink, squirming body directly onto her stomach and the world slams back into full color and sound. She gazes in shock at his tiny, perfect face, watching as two nurses swoop in to rub him down with blankets. Within seconds, he squawks, and when he opens his mouth to let out a strong cry she bursts into tears.

Her arms come up to cradle him, and the nurses help her pull him onto her chest so that she can hold him close. He keeps crying, expressing his discontent with being under such bright lights and feeling cold, his face scrunched up, mouth open wide. Instinctually, she cuddles him, taking one of the blankets and trying to keep him covered as they suction his mouth and nose, talking to him softly through her tears.

" _Oh…oh my god...hi…hi baby...you're here…hi…hi…_ "

He cries loudly, his lungs warming up and getting acquainted with moving air.

"Is he okay? Is he breathing okay?" she asks Lina, who has re-appeared.

"He sounds great, he's doing just fine."

She's vaguely aware that there is poking and prodding going on down below, that Elise finishing the delivery and working on getting her cleaned up, but she can't focus on anything but her baby. He quiets after a few minutes, blinking up at her.

"Hi buddy…"

For the first time in what feels like hours, Fitz's voice reaches her and she turns to look at him in awe. He's crying too, smiling down at them, leaning over to press a kiss to her temple. Liv leans into him gratefully, turning her head to kiss him.

"He's here," she whispers, sniffling, her eyes returning to the baby in her arms.

 _Their little boy_.

"He's perfect. You did it, Livvie, I'm so proud of you."

Lina comes back to her side with a fresh blanket, swapping out the one they've been using to clean him up.

"What's his name, guys?"

They glance at each other, and Fitz gives her a watery smile. "What's his name, Liv?"

She can't stop crying, tears still pouring down her face as she presses her lips to her son's forehead for the first time.

Finally, she takes a deep breath and looks down at him, brushing a finger over his tiny nose.

" _Micah_. His name is Micah."

* * *

Fitz cuts the umbilical cord, and after nearly an hour of cuddling him on her chest, Olivia lets Lina take Micah over to a warmer to be weighed and measured. As soon as she moves him he starts to cry again, and Liv is immediately overwhelmed with the urge to comfort him, anxious that she can't for the time being. Instead, she squeezes Fitz's hand and tells him to go with their baby, that it's just across the room and she'll be fine over here. Elise finishes up and gives her a hug, congratulating her and letting her know she'll check in with them during her next shift.

Just as quickly as the room had become chaotic, it's quiet, the last of the delivery nurses congratulating them and filtering out. Now covered with blankets and a fresh gown, sitting up in bed, Olivia watches as Lina lets Fitz be the one to diaper, swaddle, and pull Micah's little hat on.

"Oh man, we've got a swaddling _pro_ over here, Liv," Lina comments, clearing away the last of the delivery equipment.

"I've swaddled a baby or two," Fitz grins, lifting Micah into his arms for the first time. "Hi there. Hey, my little guy. We're so happy you're here. Oh, that's a big yawn, that was hard work, huh?"

The amount of love she feels for the two of them knocks the breath out of her, and her eyes fill with tears as she watches them together.

"Okay, let's go see Mommy, I know she's dying to have you back."

 _Mommy_. He's talking about _her_.

She doesn't even try to pretend that she isn't aching to have him back, already reaching for him as Fitz bends down, carefully transferring the baby back to her.

"There you go, there's Mommy," Fitz murmurs, watching Micah's eyes close as soon as Liv cradles him close.

"Hi pumpkin," she greets him softly, feeling the weight of his tiny body in her arms, "You're so tiny, you felt a lot bigger when you were in there kicking me. I can't believe you're here. I can't believe he's here."

Fitz pulls his chair close to the bed and sinks down into it. "It feels like a dream, doesn't it? We've been waiting and waiting to meet you, buddy."

Lina comes back into the room with three hospital bracelets, snapping them on to each member of the new family.

"Liv, were you planning on breastfeeding? We like to offer new moms a little help with that first feeding, if you want I can show you the basics before I leave you guys alone for a while."

Olivia nods, suddenly remembering all of the reading she'd done about breastfeeding, and how all of the books recommended trying to feed within the first hour or so.

They get Micah unwrapped to wake him, and Lina shows her how to do a newborn hold, how to press him against her body to keep him from getting too cold and cradle his head with her palm. She watches in awe as, with guidance, Micah latches on to her nipple and instinctively starts to suck.

"Look at that, he's doing great, you've got it Mama," Lina smiles, "I'll be back to check on you guys in a couple hours."

The two of them sit quietly for a little while as Micah suckles, talking softly and watching him. Fitz dims the lights as they finish nursing, and it's finally starting to feel calm in the room.

He sits back down, leaning in to kiss her softly. "You feeling okay?"

"I must still be on an endorphin high or something because I feel great right now," she answers, honestly, "I think I'm still in shock, I can't believe he just came out of me. He's so amazing. I should do skin-to-skin with him, shouldn't I?"

"Sure, he'll love that. You're his mom, you know what he needs," Fitz smiles, watching as she cuddles Micah upright against her bare chest and reclines back, pulling her gown and blankets over him.

It's rare that he finds himself comparing an experience he's having with Liv to an experience he's had with his ex-wife, but he can't help doing it now. He watches her settle down and close her eyes contentedly, pressing gentle kisses to Micah's head, one hand cupped beneath his bottom and the other on his back. The bond between them is already so palpable, it's like he can actually _see_ her falling in love with him.

Mellie loves their children, of course, but she hadn't bonded immediately, not like that. She hadn't wanted much to do with their kids when they were babies, doing the bare minimum, handing them over to nannies as often as possible. He can only image what a difference it makes, having someone love you that much from your first hour of life, as opposed to trying to bond five or ten years later.

"Hey."

Liv is smiling, trying to get his attention, catching him lost in thought. "You're zoning out on us, you should go lie down, we've been awake for a long time."

He scoots closer, smoothing a loose curl away from her face.

"I'm fine here for now. You…" he starts, pressing his forehead against hers, cupping her cheek, "…were incredible today. You are officially the strongest person I know."

"We were a team," she murmurs, "I did the physical part, but the mental part? I needed you for that, I wouldn't have been able to get through it without you."

Micah squeaks softly in his sleep, little fingers splaying out against her chest.

"Oh, but you did the hardest part today, didn't you pumpkin? You were so strong and brave," she coos softly, gently rubbing her palm over his back, bringing his hand up to kiss his fingers, "He's so content already."

Fitz smiles, stretching out in his chair. "Did you think he wouldn't be?"

"I don't know," she shrugs, "Being born seems pretty traumatic."

"Well sure, but he's good now. He's got a full tummy, he's warm and dry, he's all snuggled up with his mom, what more could he want?"

"I guess you're right," she smirks, delicately tracing her fingers over his dusting of hair.

Fitz tips his head to get a better look at Micah. "He's _really_ cute, he's got great baby cheeks."

"He really does," she giggles quietly, running the back of her finger over his plump cheek.

When she looks back at Fitz, he's still looking at her with that same unreadable expression, eyes warm and soft.

"What?" she asks, softly, eyes searching his face, "What are you thinking?"

Fitz looks down, and when he looks at her again his eyes are misty. "I'm thinking about how lucky he is to have you."

"Fitz," she breathes, "He's lucky to have _you_. How many little boys get to grow up hanging with their Dad all day? You guys are going to be so close."

"I hope so," he murmurs, eyes trained on Micah, "I really want that kind of relationship with him."

Liv smiles at him, letting him take her hand and press a kiss to it. Silence falls over them again, both of them watching Micah, cataloguing every detail of this new little person's face.

She glances up at him as he yawns widely. "Please go lay down in that recliner over there. You look exhausted, I promise we'll be okay for a couple hours."

"Are you sure?" he asks, looking every bit like he's been awake for almost twenty hours, "What about you? You're the one who just had a baby."

"I'm okay," she laughs, softly, "I just want to hold him right now. _Go_. When you wake up we'll switch."

He presses a kiss to her lips, and then one to Micah's head, falling asleep in the recliner minutes later.

* * *

She's always had a difficult time saying 'I love you'. But as she cradles her son against her chest, just the two of them, Fitz sleeping across the room, she finds that the words come easily.

"I love you," she whispers, brushing her finger over his tiny hand.

Love fills her up and spills over, the most intense she's ever felt, and she can't hold it in, she doesn't even want to. She wants to bathe in the feeling, to let it permanently warm her from the inside out. And she does.

 _"I love you, I love you, I love you…"_

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you SO MUCH for reading. Let me know what you guys thought!**


	23. The Firsts: VI

**A/N: Aaaaand we're back, with another chapter of The Firsts! Love that little Micah. I know some of my readers have kids, and I'd ask that you please not take any opinions presented in this installment as criticism. I don't have kids of my own, no judgement here, this is just what I felt would be true for Fitz, Olivia, and Micah.**

* * *

 **The First Big Parenting Fight - 2.5yrs Old**

"Micah, I said _no_."

Olivia tries to tune out the sound of Fitz arguing with their two and a half year-old, typing the last of her notes as quickly as she can.

"No books now!" Micah announces defiantly.

For whatever reason, Micah is refusing to let Fitz put him to bed this evening, stubbornly ignoring his dad's requests that he put his cars away and get ready for story time. She's in their home office working on a huge case, prepping for a press conference, otherwise she'd be out in the living room to help him negotiate. It's not something that happens often, but it's always difficult when she has to work in the evening, although Fitz supports her working and always has.

"Help me put these cars away right now, I said no more. It's time for bed."

She can hear Fitz nearing the end of his patience, an edge creeping into his voice as he starts to command their son, rather than ask him. Micah is a very typical toddler, testing his boundaries, seeing how much he can get away with before Fitz pulls out his 'angry face'.

"No!"

At Micah's latest shout, Fitz's patience runs out more quickly than she'd anticipated, and she can actually hear him throwing toy cars into their storage bin.

"No, Daddy, no!"

Micah starts to cry, and she can tell just by the sound of it that he's about to throw a huge fit, that he's _angry_.

"Do _not_ take those cars out. I mean it!"

Fitz is yelling now, and Liv sighs, closing her laptop and heading out into the living room to try and mitigate the situation.

" _Micah Pope Grant_ , if you throw that at me—"

It all happens so fast that she barely has time to react.

She comes around the corner just in time to see a crying, red-faced Micah hurl a metal toy car directly at Fitz's face, hitting him square in the forehead. In the next second, Fitz takes Micah by the arm and pulls him forward, landing three hard smacks against his bottom.

She gasps, shocked. " _Fitz_."

Micah stops crying as soon as he's hit, his eyes wide and scared. After a moment, he dissolves into tears again, running to Olivia and burying his face in her legs. She puts a hand on the back of his head, still frozen with her mouth agape, staring at Fitz in complete shock.

The most powerful protective instinct she's ever felt surges inside her, adrenaline rushing through her system, her pulse thundering in her ears. She feels like a lion, poised to attack, because someone took a hand to her baby. In this moment, it doesn't matter that it was Fitz, his own father, the man she loves. He put his hands, in an aggressive manner, on _her child_ , and nothing about that is okay.

She reaches down and lifts Micah into her arms, wincing as he squeezes tight around her neck, his little body shaking with hiccups and sobs.

"Shh, calm down," she soothes into his ear, forcing her voice to remain soft and even, "You're alright, shh."

Fitz stands up slowly, making eye contact with her again as she starts to calm their son. She's looking at him like she's never seen him before, and something about the way she's staring him down makes him stay rooted to the spot.

"Liv—"

As soon as he starts to speak her eyes flash and she takes a step back, her palm rubbing circles over Micah's back.

" _Don't_ ," she hisses quietly, nailing him with an icy gaze, "I've got him."

And with that, she turns and stalks away, carrying a hysterical Micah up the stairs and into his bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

* * *

It takes her a long time to calm him down.

She tries to lay Micah in his bed a few times, awake, only to have him burst into tears, crying and reaching for her. It's not like him and it breaks her heart, knowing that his little world has been shaken up so much that he's reluctant to be out of her arms. She tries talking to him, asking him why he's crying and what he wants, but he's not in the mood to communicate, simply crying for her instead.

Finally, she reverts back to a technique that she'd used when he was a baby, cradling him in her arms sideways so that he can press his face into her chest, rocking him in his rocking chair. Only then does he fall into a deep enough sleep that she's able to transfer him to his bed, tucking the blankets around him and flipping his night light on.

When she closes Micah's door, leaning against it for a second to collect herself in the hallway, the house is silent.

She needs a glass of wine.

Fitz is still in the living room when she comes downstairs, watching the news.

"Is he down?" he asks.

She ignores him, walking through to the kitchen without even looking in his direction. Fitz takes a deep breath, turning the television off and following her.

"Is he asleep?" he asks again, leaning against the island.

Again, she keeps her back turned, pulling a wine glass down from the cabinet, rummaging through a drawer for their corkscrew.

"So, you're ignoring me now? I'm asking you a question."

Slowly, she turns around to face him, eyes cast downward. She pauses, taking a moment to choose her words carefully.

"I'm not confident that I can keep a civil tone if I talk to you right now, so, yes, I'm ignoring you."

"You're angry," he states unnecessarily.

"Yes," she hisses, stabbing at the cork of the wine bottle with the point of the corkscrew, "I'm angry."

"Liv, c'mon, I lost my temper with him, it happens. I shouldn't have yelled, I'll admit that, I'm sorry you had to take over."

At that, she stops what she's doing and raises her eyes to his, an incredulous look on her face. "You think I'm angry with you because you yelled at him?"

"Aren't you?" he asks, confused.

"You _hit_ him," she breathes, looking at him in disbelief.

His eyebrows raise in surprise. "You're angry because I spanked him? Why?"

"What do you mean, _why_? How am I supposed to feel about someone hitting my son?"

"First of all, stop saying that I 'hit' him, I spanked him, there's a difference. And second of all, he's _our_ son."

"That's a lie you're telling yourself, they're not different. If I were to come over there and do what you did, with an open hand, I would be hitting you, and that's what you did to him. And if he's _our_ son, where the hell do you get off making a decision like that without getting my opinion first?"

It's Fitz's turn to stare at her in shock, completely blindsided by her anger.

"Liv," he starts, gently, "You can't coddle him forever, I know he's your baby—"

"Oh, stop right there," she seethes, closing her eyes in disgust, "That is not what this is about, and if you don't drop that patronizing attitude this conversation is over."

"So what are you saying? You don't think we should spank him?"

"No! I don't!" she yells, angrily.

They stand in silence, realizing they're locked in a distinct difference of opinion.

It's Olivia who eventually pulls in a long breath through her nose and sighs tiredly, moving to finish opening the wine. She grabs a second glass and pours a little bit for both of them, sliding his across the island to him. They each take a sip, letting some of the tension in the room dissipate, both pausing to try and get some distance from the anger.

They'd promised each other years ago that yelling wasn't the way they would communicate anymore, and they're both fairly good about keeping that promise. The nature of their relationship is that things blow up occasionally, but they always make an effort to try and hear each other, to remember that their words are much more well-received when they come from a place of love and respect.

"Want to sit?" she asks quietly, eyeing him warily.

He looks pained, obviously upset that he's hurt her so badly without meaning to. "Yeah, let's sit."

They settle down at the kitchen table, awkwardly looking away from each other.

"Have you hit him before?"

The look in her eyes tells him that she doesn't really want to hear the details if he has, but that she needs to know the answer.

"Once, a couple of weeks ago. You were at work."

Olivia blinks slowly, shaking her head, taking a sip of her wine.

"So," Fitz starts, carefully, "I'm guessing you weren't spanked as a child?"

"No, I wasn't," she replies, her tone clipped, "And I turned out just fine."

"Never? Not once?"

"No, my parents never hit me. I can't even imagine—you really don't see anything wrong with what happened earlier tonight?"

"Honestly, it happened so fast, I just…I just reacted. He defied me and I disciplined him."

"Your parents hit you, then?"

"My dad did," he reveals, sitting back in his chair, "All the time. That was pretty much the only form of discipline in our house. If I acted out, there were always consequences."

Olivia leans forward and rubs her hands over her face, peering at him incredulously over the tops of her fingers. "Before we go any further I just have to say that you can't—you can't hit him. I'm not okay with it, I hate that you've even done it twice. It actually makes my skin crawl, thinking about it."

"Why, though?" he asks, genuinely confused, "He has to learn to obey us."

"Did you see his face? He had no idea why you were hitting him, he looked so scared. You didn't even talk to him, you just grabbed him."

"He knew exactly why I was angry with him!"

Olivia shakes her head, frustrated that he's not understanding her. "He knew you were mad at him but he didn't connect that to what you were doing. You scared him, Fitz, he didn't understand. That's why he ran to me."

"Isn't the important part that he misbehaved, and then dealt with consequences that he didn't like?"

"Has it occurred to you that there might be better ways to achieve that? Like talking it through with him or putting him in time out? Don't you think it's important for him to understand why he's being punished? Don't you want to be better than—"

She cuts herself off, not wanting to say something that will make him shut down completely.

His face falls, his expression stony. "Better than what? Better than my father?"

Olivia doesn't answer him, letting her silence answer his question.

"He was a shitty father for a lot of reasons that had nothing to do with the way he chose to discipline me. He made a lot of mistakes that I don't plan on repeating."

"I know that. You're a great dad," Liv says softly, "But aside from the fact that I don't believe in spanking, I don't want to see you screw up your relationship with Micah like that. You're better than this."

"I guess I…I never knew anything different, when it comes to discipline, I mean."

"I understand that," she reassures him, leaning toward him across the table, "That's how you grew up, so why wouldn't you punish him that way? But think about what happened earlier. You yelled at him, you were aggressive, and you hurt him, physically. You didn't teach him anything, he doesn't understand why it's not okay to throw things, he doesn't know that he hurt you. You didn't solve anything, you scared him. Do you want him to be afraid of you? Or do you want him to respect you?"

She can see the realization in his eyes as he listens to her, and she knows that she's finally getting her point across.

"I—I never thought about it that way," he answers quietly, "I knew not to act out as a kid, but I definitely didn't respect my dad. I was afraid of him. I don't want Micah to be afraid of me."

Her eyes soften, and relief floods her as she realizes they've successfully avoided a screaming match. "I know you don't. And I'm not saying that I'm perfect, I lose my cool and yell at him sometimes too, it's something we can work on together. We'll come up with a plan, _together_ , for discipline, and we'll help each other remember to follow through. When he's being an impossible toddler it's easy to forget how sweet and funny he is the rest of the time."

Fitz smiles, thinking about their son. "He can certainly turn on the charm when he wants to."

"Just like his Dad," she teases, smiling gently.

Extending her arms across the table, she waits until he gives her his hands, taking his left hand and turning it over between her palms.

"You're always so gentle with us, with me _and_ with him. I want him to learn how to be gentle too. I want you to teach him that."

"I will, Liv. I—like I said, I just reacted. I wasn't—I didn't think about it the way that I should have. I've honestly never made that connection before, that my dad hitting me set that kind of tone for our relationship," he admits, looking crestfallen, "I don't want that for Micah and I. I don't—I won't do it anymore."

"Promise me," she requests, softly, looking at him seriously.

"I promise," he nods, looking her in the eyes.

They're still holding hands and he leans across the table, pressing a few kisses to the backs of her hands where they're joined with his.

"He cried for a long time. Do you think he hates me?" he asks hesitantly, after a minute.

"Oh, no he doesn't hate you. When you go in to get him tomorrow morning, he won't even remember."

"You think?"

She levels her gaze with his. "I don't think, I know. Tomorrow is a fresh start."

They share a tired smile, relaxing back into their respective chairs, sipping quietly on their wine.

"You've, uh, you've got a mark where he nailed you with that car," she points out, trying not to laugh.

"That actually really hurt," he pouts, rubbing his forehead, "Kid's got an arm on him."

Giggling, she moves out of her chair and sits in his lap, looping her arms around his neck. "Poor Daddy, right in the line of fire."

Her hands slide up to cup his face, tipping his head so that she can press a tender kiss to his forehead. She presses another between his eyebrows, one to his cheek, finally capturing his lips.

"I hate fighting with you," he murmurs, pulling her closer, running his hands over her back.

"I know, me too. We're a lot better about it than we used to be though," she smiles, thumbs rubbing his jaw.

Olivia sighs softly, wrapping her arms around his neck when his tongue strokes into her mouth, tangling with hers.

"I miss you," he whispers, sliding a hand around to palm her breast, massaging firmly, "It's been almost two weeks, I think."

Exhaling in pleasure against his lips, she leans in to the pressure against her breast. "Has it really? God, we need to stop passing out at the end of the day, we're not _that_ old."

"Speak for yourself," he rasps, his breath hitching as she ghosts her mouth over his ear, laughing quietly.

"Well, Micah's asleep, and we're still awake, so…do you—"

"Don't need to ask me twice," he interrupts, his voice low and soft, nipping gently at her neck, working his way back to her mouth, "I'll make love to you any time, any place, any way that you want. How do you want it, Livvie?"

She pulls him into another kiss, soft and wet.

"Slow," she murmurs, sucking on his bottom lip, eyes hazy, "Slow and deep enough that I'll still feel you tomorrow."

His eyes darken at her description, pupils dilating as he eases her from his lap. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he lets her guide them toward the stairs, pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses against her neck.

* * *

The next morning, Fitz is a little hesitant to go into Micah's room. He pauses outside of his door, listening to the toddler talk to himself in bed, waiting patiently for someone to come get him.

He steels himself, but when he opens the door he gets the same greeting that he always gets.

"Daddy its morning!"

Fitz chuckles, walking over to Micah's bed. "It's morning, you're right. Good morning buddy, did you have a good sleep?"

"Yes I seep. I reading?"

"You want to read a book? Okay, we can read one before breakfast, go pick one out."

Micah hasn't realized yet that he can easily climb out of his 'big boy' bed on his own, and they're milking it for all it's worth. Fitz picks him up and sets him on the floor, watching him run over to his bookshelf and start pulling books out. He trots back over holding a Dr. Seuss book, holding his arms up to be lifted back onto the bed.

"Can Daddy have his morning hug first? Before we start reading?"

He opens his arms and Micah crawls into them, much more apt to give hugs and cuddle in the morning, fresh from sleep. Fitz holds him a little tighter this morning, his heart squeezing painfully when he thinks about what had happened between them the night before.

Micah wiggles down into his lap and picks up the book, opening it and starting to point out the fish, talking about the colors.

"Red fish, red fish, blue."

"That's right, one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish."

He lets Micah flip through a few pages, reading the words out loud when prompted, otherwise letting him 'read' on his own.

"Hey Micah, Daddy wants to talk to you about something."

Micah's not going to remember, or even really understand what he's about to say, but Fitz feels like he needs to say it anyway.

"Do you remember when we played with your cars?"

"My cars?"

Micah keeps paging through the book, half-aware that Fitz is talking and half-focused on the bright colors.

"Yeah, we played with your cars yesterday before bed, and Daddy got mad at you."

He gets quiet for a moment, staring at the fat fish with the yellow hat.

"Daddy throw cars. Mommy came," he says, absently.

He doesn't sound upset about it, turning the page of the book nonchalantly, but it makes Fitz's breath catch because he clearly remembers what happened on some level.

"That's right. I yelled at you and I—I hit you, and that wasn't nice at all."

"No hitting," Micah recites, repeating something they've told him before.

 _So hypocritical. How am I supposed to teach him not to hit people if I'm hitting him?_

Fitz has been coming up with a thousand flaws in his own logic all morning, so angry with himself for not thinking things through earlier.

"Right, hitting is not nice. I want to say sorry for hitting you, buddy."

That gets Micah's attention and he looks up at Fitz, knowing that 'saying sorry' is something important.

"I'm sorry, and I won't do it again, okay? Do you forgive me?"

Micah has no idea what the word 'forgive' means, but he stares at his dad curiously for a second.

"I feh-geh me Daddy."

Fitz can't help but smile, because he's so cute when he repeats phrases like that.

"Close enough," he laughs, giving Micah a squeeze and pressing a kiss to his head.

Micah looks up at him again, brows furrowing when the small bruise on Fitz's forehead catches his attention.

"Daddy got a boo-boo?" he points.

"Yeah, that's from your car. Remember, you threw a car at Daddy, and that wasn't very nice either. Now I have a boo-boo."

He can see Micah processing all of that, still staring at the bruise.

"Kiss it?"

"Oh, you want to kiss it better for me? That's so nice, okay."

 _Sweet boy_.

He bends down so that Micah can lay a sloppy kiss against his head.

"Thanks buddy. Can you say sorry to Daddy? For throwing your car?"

Micah leans into his chest, paging through the book again.

"So-ey Daddy," he mumbles quietly, starting to learn that 'saying sorry' is sometimes a hard thing to say.

"That's okay," Fitz murmurs, pressing another kiss into his curls, "We'll both try to do better next time, okay?"

"Cakes?" Micah asks, suddenly, "Make cakes?"

"You want some pancakes for breakfast?"

"Yeah cakes beek-fast."

"Okay, lets go make pancakes."

Fitz sets him on the floor, sighing as he runs out the door and it starts all over again.

"On your bottom!" he calls, jogging out after the toddler, smiling as he carefully sits on the top step and starts to slide down the stairs.

* * *

 **A/N: As always, thank you for reading! Let me know what you thought!**


	24. Popcorn: Redux

**A/N: This is a rewrite of one of my first one-shots. I re-read it recently and thought, "I could write so much more...", so I did, ha! This one shot is a different take on the ending of the kidnapping arc (4x13). While I understand the choice to let the kidnapping drive Olivia and Fitz apart, I've always felt like it should have brought them together. I get that him going to war for her was supposed to be her "Defiance", but it just felt like cruel and unusual punishment to me, it didn't have to go down like that. I really needed to see her reach out for support after that ordeal, I hated watching her suffer alone. So I fixed it, because it's writer's prerogative.**

* * *

They look disappointed when she sends them away, especially Jake, but there's only one person she wants to see right now. If she can't be with him, she'd rather be alone tonight.

And then, suddenly, he's there.

She's so tired and broken that it doesn't matter how it is that he's here, she's just so grateful that he _is_.

Olivia opens the door and watches his face go slack with relief, feels the breath catch in her chest because the phrase ' _sight for sore eyes'_ doesn't even begin to describe how relieved she is to see him.

Wordlessly, she steps back to let him in, moving to lock out the world, the big, suddenly very scary, world. He's stoic next to her, waiting while she locks the door, standing close but not touching her just yet.

When she turns to look at him her face takes Fitz's breath away, and he realizes it's because her guard is down. All of her emotions are right on the surface and it's disarming, he's not used to seeing her this way.

She simply doesn't have the energy to hide from him, to pretend that her world hasn't been turned upside down.

Fitz takes a step forward and draws her into his arms, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. She returns the embrace, weaving her fingers through his curls and letting her eyes drift closed. She leans into it when he pulls her body flush against his, nuzzling her cheek against his hair. They hold each other for long moments just breathing, existing, as she relaxes against him and exhales slowly.

"Are you hurt?" he whispers, the first words he's spoken, "Did they hurt you?"

He feels her shake her head against his shoulder. "No. I'm fine."

There's no conviction in her voice when she tells him she's fine, like she's just saying it out of habit.

She's not fine.

He knows it, she knows it, she doesn't need to admit it, they don't need to talk about it right now.

Memories of the past week wash over Fitz for what feels like the thousandth time. Having her pressed against him and feeling her chest rise and fall with each breath helps to ease the sheer terror that grips him at the thought of losing her. He moves both hands to the small of her back and holds her a little tighter.

 _One minute_.

She'll never have to admit how shaken up she is, how badly she needs him to ground her, because he already knows. He's strong and solid against her and it's exactly what she needs. The tension is starting to leave her body, finally, and she makes a soft, contented sound in the back of her throat.

That triggers something, and she feels it when he almost loses control. She feels his breath quicken against her skin, his body conveying the emotions he's trying so hard not to express.

"Hey," she soothes, gently easing his face away from her neck and looking up into his eyes. "It's over. I'm right here."

He looks down, exhaling heavily, before meeting her eyes again. He leans in, bringing his hands up to cup her face. His thumbs trace her cheekbones slowly, reverently. She watches his brow furrow as he struggles to find the words. "I just, I thought—" He stops, swallows hard.

"I know."

She brings her forehead to his, doesn't make him finish his sentence.

Fitz kisses her then, gently at first, his hands running over her face, moving to thread through her hair. One kiss turns into a series of soft kisses, each lasting a little longer than the one before until everything else falls away and they're kissing slow and deep. Olivia moans into his mouth as his hands clutch her closer and start to wander, sliding firmly over her lower back and then around to cradle her hips.

After days of rough, and unwanted touches, his hands on her body feel like sinking into a hot bath and suddenly she needs him to touch her everywhere. Tears sting her eyes and a sob gets stuck in her throat as she lays her hands over his. Liv breaks their kiss and drops her face to his shoulder, guiding his hands in a slow caress up over her belly and breasts, then back down to her hips.

Fitz lets her lead him, sensing that what she's doing is about comfort, not sex. She lets go of his hands and wraps her arms under his shoulders so that they're holding each other again.

"Missed your hands," she whispers into his neck, uncharacteristically vulnerable. He gives her hips a gentle squeeze and smoothes his palms up and down her sides a few times.

Secret Service knocks on the front door and she pulls away with a gasp, jumping so violently that she nearly knocks her forehead against his jaw.

"It's okay, it's the Secret Service," he reassures her, "They have a phone for me, we left in such a hurry I didn't grab one."

She nods her head, unconsciously grabbing fistfuls of her jacket to help keep her hands from shaking so badly.

He presses a kiss against her forehead and then goes to answer the door, momentarily eyeing the plethora of new locks.

While he talks with his agents, a wave of mind-numbing exhaustion hits her. She sinks down onto the couch and takes a deep breath, suddenly a little nauseous. Trying to remember the last time she'd eaten or slept, Liv wraps the coat she's still wearing tighter around her body and leans forward. The brightness around the edges of her vision clears away and she takes another measured inhale.

"Livvie?"

He slowly crosses the room and crouches down in front of her, meeting her gaze. For the first time, he's struck by how utterly exhausted she looks. Her eyes are glassy and vacant for a moment before she's with him again.

"You should go," she says quietly, looking down at her ruined couch, "You need to—"

"Stop, I'm not going anywhere tonight. I'm not leaving you alone."

She stares at him for a few seconds, familiar feelings of guilt creeping over her at the fact that she's keeping him from his very important job. But at the same time, _god_ if she doesn't want him to stay and hold her while she sleeps, preferably for the better part of the next twenty-four hours. She's so _tired_ and she's never slept as well as she does in his arms. She's missed him terribly and if she's completely honest with herself, the only thing she wants right now is Fitz.

Fitz watches the internal struggle going on behind her eyes, knowing that he's staying even if she tries to argue with him.

But she doesn't argue. Eventually, her eyes soften and when he tugs gently on her hands she comes willingly.

"C'mere," he murmurs, sitting down next to her.

Olivia snuggles into his arms, head tucked under his chin. She breathes him in and aches with the relief of it, he feels so familiar and warm and perfect. Focusing on his hand tracing slow circles over her back, she tries to match her ragged breaths with his steady, even ones, calming her pulse.

After a few breaths she sits up, looking slightly bewildered as she looks around, like everything is the same and yet so, so different. He watches her carefully, noting how tense her shoulders and neck are, that her hands are still shaking slightly, that she's squinting her eyes the way she does when she has a headache.

Her eyes land on him and he reaches out to stroke the hair away from her forehead, inadvertently making her wince and move away.

"Hey, what's—"

Fitz stops short as she carefully moves her hair aside, revealing the deep purple bruise that's blossoming across her temple, up toward her forehead.

"Liv, jesus—they did that to you?"

"Is it bad?" she asks, quietly, "I forgot it was there."

He sighs, face stony, trying to contain his anger because there's nowhere to direct it. She certainly doesn't need him to aim it anywhere near _her_ right now. Gingerly, he moves more of her hair away to get a better look, trying to see if her skin has been broken at all.

"It's—it's dark, and swollen, it'll take a while to heal. It looks recent, _really_ recent."

He hasn't actually asked her the question, but it's unspoken, hanging in the air between them.

"It was this morning, I think," she answers, slowly, "I don't really know how many time zones I've been through today, but I think it was today. They left the car keys and—and I was trying to get away and I—he hit me."

Her voice breaks on the last syllable, like she can't believe it really happened, like she hasn't even started to process what she's been through. Fitz's eyes soften, and he immediately refocuses on her, anger forgotten for the moment.

"We'll put some ice on it," he soothes, "That will help with the swelling."

She nods, eyes closing, chin trembling for a second. He takes her hand and she squeezes it tightly.

"I really need to take a shower," she whispers.

He smiles gently. "Okay. You can do whatever you want."

 _You're home now_.

The smallest hint of a smile graces her face and she nods, looking down as she absently plays with his fingers, keeping the contact between them.

When she doesn't move he stands up, gently puling her with him. "C'mon."

Liv lets him walk her into the bathroom and start the shower, cranking it up until it steams. When he turns around she's stripping the clothes she's wearing off, balling them up and leaving them carelessly on the floor. They're not hers, he recognizes, and he makes a mental note to find a trash bag so that he can throw them away for her.

"I'll be right out there if you need anything."

He moves to leave as she shrugs out of the unwanted bra, adding it to the pile, but she catches his hand, pulling him back to her.

"Stay?"

Her eyes are tired, pleading, and of _course_ he'll stay with her. As he starts to strip his clothes off her face relaxes, and she steps out of her underwear, climbing into the shower.

She's not sure anything has ever felt as good as the scalding water of her own shower, and she darts beneath the spray, soaking her hair immediately. Her hands come up to smooth water through the dry strands, coaxing her natural curl out, rinsing away the foreign product. Fitz steps in behind her and picks up her shampoo before she can, taking some into his palms and starting to wash her hair.

 _His hands_.

It's warm and hazy in the shower, his hands are gentle, and it helps her forget that things aren't _fine._

Things may never be fine again.

He washes her hair and conditions it, twice, detangling the curls the way he's seen her do before. She's indescribably grateful for him because she just doesn't have the energy, and his hands are incredibly soothing, she just wants him to keep touching her. Her mind drifts, blissfully, for a few minutes, until she realizes that his fingers are tracing patterns against her upper arms.

The finger-shaped bruises there aren't as obvious, a result of being grabbed, manhandled, over and over, but Fitz knows her skin well enough to see them. Olivia turns to face him, and his eyes are wet with tears of frustration and anger, sick at the thought of someone putting their hands on her like that.

"Livvie, I'm sorry," he breathes, his voice cracking, "I'm so sorry."

Tears fill her eyes too when he leans down, pressing soft kisses over her bruised arms, even softer kisses against her temple.

"Shh, not your fault," she whispers, carding her fingers through his hair.

He holds her, getting himself under control again, resting his lips against the soft skin of her neck. When he pulls away, her hands immediately come up to cradle his jaw, pulling him into a tender kiss. His face is calmer when they break apart, and he takes a deep breath, running his index finger down the bridge of her nose.

Olivia takes a step forward, resting her forehead against his chest.

"Okay?" he asks, rubbing soothingly over her lower back.

"Mmm," she hums, "Nauseous. I need to eat something, I think."

"Why don't you take a few minutes to yourself, I'll go out and see what's in your kitchen. _Is_ there anything in your kitchen, besides popcorn?"

That finally gets her to crack a smile. "Soup. There should be soup in the pantry."

"Soup it is," he murmurs, pressing a kiss against her hair.

* * *

She spends another thirty minutes in the bathroom by herself, shaving, scrubbing and moisturizing every inch of her skin, carefully tending to her neglected curls with leave-in and aloe. By the time she walks out into her bedroom she can smell soup cooking, and for the first time all night she feels marginally better.

Dressed in her favorite silk pajamas, Olivia pads out through the living room and into the kitchen. Fitz is standing at her stove, stirring a pot, wearing boxers and a tee shirt, and she doesn't think she's ever ached to touch him as much as she does right now. She crosses to him and wraps her arms around him from behind, resting her cheek against the broad expanse of his back.

"Instant noodles, Liv? Really?" he teases, glancing at her over his shoulder, "This was the only soup in there so I assumed this was what you meant."

She huffs out a tiny laugh, humming contentedly as he starts to rub his free hand over her forearms. "I love it. I used to make it for myself all the time when I was little, I always keep a couple boxes around."

"It's so…yellow."

"—and salty, mmm. I'm making you taste it."

"Why do you assume I've never had it?"

"Because you grew up _fancy_. Your chef probably packed you crab cakes and fois gras for lunch."

Fitz laughs outright at that, tipping his head back. "Okay, Miss 'Prep School-Princeton Grad'. I think this stuff is ready."

She smiles again, a real smile, because it feels so _good_ to tease him, so _normal_.

Reluctantly, Olivia lets go of him and pulls two bowls down from her cabinet, setting them on the counter.

"Uh-uh," he argues, putting one of them away, "This is all for you, you need it."

"I can share with you."

"I ate dinner already."

"No, you didn't."

He almost spills the soup, glancing over at her. "How did you know that?"

"Because, you don't eat when you're anxious either. We have that in common," Liv says softly, pulling the second bowl back down.

Sighing, he lets her pour about a third of the soup into his bowl, not contesting how well she knows him. They take their soup out to the couch and cuddle up together, quietly slurping noodles and sipping broth.

As soon as there's food in her stomach, exhaustion hits her like a freight train. She doesn't remember falling asleep against him, but suddenly she's stirring awake as he carefully scoops her up, carrying her into the bedroom.

Fitz settles her beneath the covers, crawling in to spoon up snugly behind her. Her bedroom is dark and cool, and he's so content with her in his arms that he starts to drift off immediately.

"What if I dream about it?"

Her voice is small and scared, and it makes him hold her closer.

"You won't dream about it," he murmurs, lips next to her ear, "Not while I'm with you. I've got you."

* * *

She doesn't dream.

They sleep for hours and hours, nearly comatose with exhaustion, both of their bodies finally succumbing to the anxiety and trauma of the week.

When Olivia finally blinks her eyes open, the clock reads eleven, and her first thought is that she hasn't slept this late since high school. For a few blissful seconds, her mind is blank, absorbing the soft sensation of her blankets, her pillow, the delicate shafts of light filtering through the gauzy curtains, Fitz's arm across her waist—

In an instant, reality slams into her and she remembers. She remembers why Fitz is here, she remembers why she's been asleep for nearly twelve hours, she remembers _everything_ , and for a few moments it's terrible. It all rises up to overwhelm her, and she burrows deeper beneath the covers, pressing herself back further into his arms—

"Shh…"

He's awake, tightening his arms around her, reminding her that she's safe. Olivia takes a couple of deep breaths, realizing that her heart rate has picked up, focusing on Fitz's warm body behind her. The anxiety passes, leaving her wondering if this will happen every morning, every time she wakes from sleep.

Is this her new normal?

What's going to happen when he isn't here?

His palm traces a warm circle over her belly, kindling heat beneath her skin, low in her hips. Turning over, she lays her head on his pillow, meeting stormy blue eyes. The air between them is instantly thick and heavy with emotion, early morning arousal blending with an intense need to be connected.

He'd almost _lost_ her.

They'd almost lost _this_ : this otherworldly, unexplainable, beautiful _thing_ between them.

"You could have died," he rasps, his eyes wet.

She presses her forehead to his. "Yes."

"Don't do it again."

Liv cradles his cheek with her palm, bringing their lips together, and as soon as they start kissing they don't stop, not until they're naked, not until he's curving her thigh around his hip so that he can press inside her. The way he fills her makes her pull away to breathe and moan, but Fitz doesn't let her go far, keeping his nose pressed beside hers so that she's moaning into his mouth, so that they're still sharing the same air.

They're quieter than usual, soft whimpers and moans the only sounds escaping between long kisses, and it's because there aren't any words. There just aren't.

They physically can't get any closer but they're trying, arms wrapped and clutching, hands threading into hair. He's deep inside of her but it still doesn't seem like enough, she's still squeezing her leg around his hip to pull him in tighter, pressing herself against his chest as their hips rock together.

It's not a long build, and before she can prepare herself she comes around him, over him, against him, letting the waves of pleasure consume her whole body. Her orgasm throws him into his and he groans helplessly, both hands palming her hips to keep her close as he thrusts.

She doesn't let him pull out as they come down, needing to feel him just a little bit longer.

His face is buried in her neck when he speaks, his voice deep and pleading. "I can't be away from you anymore, Liv, I can't—this was too—"

"I know," she murmurs, stroking her fingers through his hair, "I'm not—I can't either and we're not doing it anymore. We'll figure it out, okay?"

Fitz nods, pressing soft kisses to her neck. Her breath picks up again as he trails his mouth to her ear and she whimpers, gently pulling his hair.

" _Fitz…more…_ "

* * *

 **A/N: After being kidnapped, couldn't the writers at least have had someone give Olivia a hug and make her soup? Is that too much to ask after what they put our girl through? I think not. Clearly I have a lot of unresolved feelings about this lol, if you do too let me know! Thanks for reading and let me know what you thought!**


	25. In These Moments

**A/N: This is a series of missing scenes from the campaign trail. They don't take place within a specific episode, some reference scenes from the show and others came solely from my brain. I broke them up by location (most of which I made up, I think the show vaguely references where they were at certain points but I couldn't be bothered to go back and figure it out, ha!).**

* * *

 **Philadelphia, PA**

 _He's married._

 _He's married._

 _He's married._

Olivia chants it to herself over and over again, like a mantra.

 _He's not yours, he can_ _ **never**_ _be yours, remember that._

 _He's going to be the President, and Presidents_ _ **cannot**_ _leave their wives._

The thing is, she knows all of this. She knows it. There isn't anyone more rational, more deliberate, more careful and calculating than she is. She's not someone who is ruled by her heart, who acts irresponsibly, recklessly, emotionally. She's never been any of those things, she's always scoffed, laughed, felt sorry for women who let feelings cloud their judgment.

So, why the _hell_ can't she stop looking at him? Why can't she stop thinking about his mouth, and his hands? Why does she keep getting lost in his gorgeous blue eyes?

She feels completely out of control around him, and it terrifies her.

After their night together, she'd slipped from his room while he slept, hurrying back to her own room before dawn. In the three weeks since, they've had limited time alone together, and they haven't talked about it, mostly because thinking about it makes her so warm and flustered that she can barely look at him.

She dreams of him and wakes up drenched in sweat, flushed and shaking, like he's been touching her in her sleep. Her body is hungry for him, against her will, crying out for more, and the longer she denies it the worse it gets.

She's never felt anything like it before, and if the pained, desperate looks he's been giving her are any indication, he's no better off. They don't have to talk about it, really, because they both know. It's not a matter of getting each other out of their systems, it's not a question of _if_ , it's a question of _when_ , of _how long until_.

It's like something has fallen into place. They've collided, the universe has brought them together and they can't go back.

He makes her feel like someone else, like a whole new person.

Where he's concerned, she's not 'Olivia Pope' anymore, she's someone that she doesn't recognize, and she can't figure out if that's a bad thing or a good thing.

She doesn't recognize who she is when she's with him.

She doesn't recognize herself when she lets her eyes shamelessly run over him when no one's watching.

She doesn't recognize herself when she purposely sits toward the back of the campaign bus, waiting for him to come sit with her on the long drives so that they can whisper together, holding hands in the dark.

She doesn't recognize herself when she starts a mental countdown toward the next time his wife will be making separate campaign stops.

She _really_ doesn't recognize herself when she quietly slips the extra key card to her room into an envelope, tucking it inside the folder that holds the latest round of her comments on one of his speeches.

Olivia presses the folder into his hands, in front of a room full of people, holding his gaze for an extra half second, long enough to see relief in his eyes.

When she gets out of the shower that night, she rubs her lavender body lotion over places she normally wouldn't, her stomach, her neck, her breasts. Normally, she wouldn't take the time, but again, she's not herself.

 _Who_ _ **am**_ _I right now?_

She wraps herself in the long, soft, cream cotton robe that she travels with and stares into the mirror, trying to reconcile the woman in front of her, the woman wearing nothing but a robe, waiting for a married man, with the person she knows herself to be.

It should make her feel cheap, waiting for him like this, shouldn't it?

Or dirty?

Guilty?

What they're doing is wrong. Having sex with a married man should make her feel _something_ other than…cherished. Respected. Seen. That's how he'd made her feel their first time, it's how she feels every time he looks at her. No one's ever made her feel that way before, not like this. Somehow, nothing about this makes her feel the way she would've anticipated.

Nothing about this feels wrong. It _should_ , but it doesn't.

The locking mechanism of her door beeps and slides open, making her heart jump into her throat. Flicking the vanity lights off, she makes it to the bathroom doorway before Fitz comes around the corner and stops, lips parting slightly when he sees the way she's dressed.

"Hi," he rasps, hesitantly, arms helplessly falling to his sides, eyes locked with hers.

And just like that, with one look, all of her uncertainty temporarily melts away, because she can see that she's not alone. He looks just as wrecked and undone as she feels, like he hasn't been able to sleep either, like he's not quite sure how to deal with this _thing_ between them, but, like her, he knows that he doesn't have the strength to fight it.

"Hi," she whispers, taking a step toward him.

They meet in the middle, and Fitz gently grasps her forearms, bringing her hands to his waist, stepping into her space.

The moment that follows is like something she's only seen in movies.

His hands travel lightly over her arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and he pulls her close, slowly lowering his face next to hers, breathing her in. When his mouth grazes her ear, the breath stalls in her chest and her knees go weak, and _that's a thing that can_ _ **actually**_ _happen?_

If their desire for each other had felt all-consuming before they'd given in to it, now it's burning so hot that they both feel like they're suffocating. Now that they've had a taste of it, of what they are together, it's impossible to ignore.

She sways against him, chest heaving slightly, and his hands slide around her hips, steadying her as he dips down to press a soft kiss against her neck. He's barely touched her, and the moan that escapes might be embarrassing if she had the capacity to be embarrassed in this moment, but she doesn't. He's stolen her ability to control her own reactions, to think, to breathe.

"Liv—"

His breaths are shallow, chest constricted by how badly he needs her.

"I know," she whispers, cradling his face in her hands, closing her eyes.

Fitz kisses her and the world flips upside down and right side up at the same time, and she doesn't understand how that could possibly be, but it feels so right that she can't question it.

* * *

He feels like he's been waiting years to touch her again.

She's a current, the dangerous kind that sweeps you far out to sea if you aren't paying attention, except he _wants_ to be swept away, he wants nothing more than for her to pull him under.

He's irrevocably in love with Olivia Pope, and he doesn't understand how that can possibly be, but he knows it's true. The second he laid eyes on her he knew it to be true, and somehow, instead of frightening him, it makes him feel a sense of calm that he can't explain.

The way she moans for him is devastating.

She's in his lap this time, their second time, rocking over him, and it's incredible how comfortable they are with each other, like the oldest of lovers. There's no inhibition in the way she moves, the sounds she makes, the way she kisses and licks at his skin, searching for the spots that make him hiss. She _trusts_ him, lets him possess her, lets him flip her down onto the bed and run his tongue over every inch of her, coaxing out orgasms that make her tremble and convulse.

He comes inside her this time because she whimpers that she wants him to, that they're safe, and he trusts her, too. It feels so good that he has to bury his face in her neck and let her hold him, jerking and groaning against her damp skin.

* * *

The hotel they're staying in is old, historic.

After they've caught their breath, reluctantly, Fitz lets her up to pee and to open the double casement windows, letting cool night air ruffle the curtains. He'll need to go back to his room at some point, they both know it, but for now Olivia fits herself back into his arms beneath the blankets, turning to face him.

They stare at each other with drowsy eyes for the longest time, drinking each other in the way they can't when they're in public. Fitz uses his thumb to delicately stroke the curve of her cheekbone, the bridge of her petite nose, her full lips.

"Are you sure?"

Her eyes flick back up to his when he breaks the silence. His are clear, piercing blue, honest and unguarded, prepared for her to walk away from this if she chooses. As if she could.

He's giving her an out.

"It's just—this…I don't want to hurt you, ever, and I might. I might hurt you. Are you sure?"

Olivia takes a breath, raising her hand to stroke through his hair, which is messy from the way she'd been grabbing at it. He leans in to her touch, trying to keep his eyes from closing before he's gotten an answer from her.

"How do you know I won't hurt _you_? You barely know me."

"I know you," he murmurs, immediately.

And he does. She stares into his eyes, losing her breath _again_ because he does know her, and she knows him. Somehow it's as if they've been lovers, partners, for years instead of weeks, and it's disarming.

" _Liv_."

His eyes are serious, still waiting for an answer.

She cups his neck and brings him closer, capturing his lips in a soft kiss, whispering against his mouth when they break apart. "No, I'm not sure. But I don't want to stop."

And that's good enough for now.

Fitz rolls her beneath him, easily pressing back inside her when she opens the cradle of her thighs, moaning softly into his mouth. He tries a new rhythm, something a little bit rougher, harder, and discovers that it makes her mewl and nip at his ear.

" _Don't stop…don't stop…_ "

* * *

 **Chapel Hill, NC**

"Did you aspire to be a campaign fixer?" he teases, looking up at her with his signature half-grin, the one that makes her stomach flip.

They've stolen away for a glorious, sweaty, afternoon quickie, and they've got about fifteen more minutes before they need to think about making themselves presentable again.

"I'm a lawyer," Olivia smirks.

"Well, so am I, but I'm not exactly practicing law either."

"Have you always wanted to be the President?"

"Ah, I asked you first."

She laughs shyly, looking away from him.

"How can you possibly be shy when I've already seen you naked?" he asks, the low timbre of his voice sending heat curling through her belly.

She turns her head back to look at him, eyeing him carefully, taking a breath. "I've always wanted to make a difference. I haven't always known how. Politics, obviously, but what realm of politics, I wasn't sure. Law school seemed like a good place to start."

The honesty in her eyes is breathtaking, and he realizes that he wants to listen to her talk all day long, he's that infatuated with her.

"I mean, that's what we all want, isn't it?" she goes on, shrugging her bare shoulders, "To make our mark. To feel like we've been heard, and seen."

"You're incredible," he murmurs, "Where did you come from?"

Blushing, she looks away again. "I could ask you the same question."

* * *

 **Houston, TX**

" _Baby…_ "

She's never called him 'baby' before.

But then, he's never made her come four times in one night before, either.

They're in Houston, and the ice storm going on outside is one for the record books. The entire city is shut down, and will be until early tomorrow morning, so they've been told. The city doesn't have enough de-icing equipment, it's on its way from another state, and so they're grounded for the night.

Blessedly, serendipitously, Mellie is back in California for the week, and even Cyrus is stuck across town after foolishly trying to visit their venue for the following day, leaving them with no one to work around.

A perfect storm of circumstances is how Fitz finds himself with hours of time alone with her, hours to spend learning new ways of making her come apart with his tongue.

Olivia rests a hand over her belly, moaning brokenly, trying to catch her breath as he pulls a fourth orgasm from her. Her stomach muscles are sore and tired from clenching over and over, and she rakes her fingers through his hair, arching against his mouth.

Where he learned to use his mouth like this she has no idea, but having him go down on her is as close to a religious experience as she's ever gotten.

" _Baby…_ "

Sex with him is incredible, and in some ways, she knows it would be easier if things were just about the sex.

Things would be so much easier if he didn't look at her the way he does.

They're not 'having sex' anymore, really. It's cliché, and she's not even remotely ready to consider using the words out loud, but they're making love, there's no other phrase for it. Even when they're rough, even when they play, there's deep affection running between them, and immense trust.

Sometimes, she feels so overwhelmingly connected to him that it makes her chest hurt because the feelings are too strong, too real.

When he laces their fingers together against the pillows.

When he kisses her with his eyes open, their pull so powerful that she can't look away.

When he brings a warm washcloth from the bathroom after they've finished, smoothing it between her thighs.

The few times they've been able to talk late into the night, until they're nodding off and he absolutely has to go back to his room before he falls asleep.

There are a thousand small moments, tiny details that make her realize how hard and fast she's fallen for him.

It's terrifying, and exhilarating, and a million other feelings that she doesn't have the words for, and the timing of it all couldn't be worse.

The timing couldn't be worse, and at the same time she can't help but wonder why it's taken her so long to meet him.

* * *

 **Stuart, FL**

They've been bickering all day long, and he's finally snapped and yelled at her.

In front of an entire room of campaign staff.

Silence falls over the room and Olivia smiles tightly, excusing herself, taking off at a brisk pace through the winding hallways of the school they're temporarily set up in.

Fitz silently berates himself, muttering an apology to everyone and slinking away. He gives her five minutes before he starts to look for her, wandering until he finds her one floor up. She's standing in an empty supply room, hands braced against a shelf laden with school supplies.

Liv looks up when he closes the door, pressing the lock.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she seethes, hurt and anger shining in her eyes, "You can't yell at me like that, like we're having some kind of lovers' quarrel, in front of the entire staff."

Fitz takes a few steps toward her, and she can see the apology written all over his face, but she's not ready to let him off so easily.

"No, stay over there," she points, "I know you're stressed, but you can't treat me like crap all day, and then expect me to just—I'm stressed too, you need to remember that, just because you're in a bad mood—"

His arms come up around her waist and she immediately pushes him away.

"Fitz, do not touch me right now—"

Silencing her with a kiss, he catches her jaw with his palm and holds her at the right angle.

She starts to half-heartedly push against him in protest, denying him simply because she's mad at him, but after a few seconds she realizes how tense he is. His shoulders, his neck, his arms, he's coiled up like a spring, and as she lets him press her into the wall she can feel that she's no better off.

Suddenly, it hits her.

They haven't been able to even touch each other, let alone have sex, in weeks. Time and circumstances just haven't allowed for it.

They're cranky because they're horny. It's torture, having to spend all day every day together without so much as a kiss on the cheek.

They're pathetic.

She realizes he's still trying to kiss her and she finally responds, opening her mouth, whimpering as their tongues tangle together.

"Livvie, I'm sorry," he gets out between kisses, already short of breath.

She shakes her head, pulling at his belt. "Shh…"

"Want you—"

"Please, let's just—"

If there are two things they excel at, political strategy is the first, and having quick, secret, sexual encounters is the second. By now, falling into each other is second nature, and they immediately start removing the necessary items of clothing.

"Wait, wait," she breathes, as he makes quick work of her carefully pressed trousers.

Fitz lets her pick them up off the floor and shake them out, smirking as she lays them over a nearby chair.

"They'll wrinkle," she mumbles, pushing his pants and boxers down, "Yours are already wrinkled, did you sleep in them or something?"

"Oh my god, I didn't have any events today," he groans, catching her when she hops into his arms, wrapping her legs around him, "Are you gonna stop talking while we do this?"

She leans down to murmur in his ear, letting her lips graze his sensitive skin. "I thought you liked it when I talk."

He pulls her underwear to the side, fingers stroking through, making sure she's ready. "I do, when you're not picking me apart."

"It's part of my job to pick you apart, I have to— _oh, god_ —I have to do it so no one else can."

They both pause while he presses inside her, helping her shift around slightly so that the angle is good for her. He moves a little bit, watching her head tip back against the wall, feeling her hands squeeze his biceps.

"Okay?" he rasps, starting with slow, shallow thrusts.

" _Mmm_."

Their lips crash together, hips colliding in a quick, needy rhythm.

Olivia arches her neck to the side as he sucks kisses against her skin, running her hands through his hair, trying not to moan too loudly. When he adjusts his grip around her thighs, her eyes flutter open, landing directly on—a window.

There's a window, higher up in the door, and the way he's holding her puts her almost directly in line with it.

"Fitz, window, there's a window," she pants, pulling his hair to get his attention.

"Wha—oh, shit, hang on."

They both erupt into quiet laugher as he tightens his grip on her, swinging them around to the adjacent corner of the room, shuffling awkwardly so as not to trip over his pants. Once they're safely hidden from view, he settles her back against the wall and they still for a moment, chests heaving softly.

He's so sexy like this, eyes dark and hazy, hair in disarray; she can't help but bite her lip in a half smile, sliding her hands over his shoulders, up to cup his neck. Their eyes soften toward each other, affection overcoming their earlier frustration. Olivia leans down and kisses him slowly, thoroughly, teasing his ears with her fingers, sucking on his tongue.

She unbuttons her blouse halfway, pulling it open for him, and he growls appreciatively, nuzzling his face between her breasts, resuming his short, grinding thrusts.

" _Fuck_ , you feel so good, missed you."

Olivia threads her hands back into his hair, whimpering quietly as his mouth attacks the sensitive skin above the cups of her bra. She's dizzy, flushed, already close.

"Close, baby…just a little, _oh_ —"

When she starts to come, Fitz quickly captures her mouth in a kiss, trying to muffle the sounds of relief she's making. He jerks against her once, twice, and buries his face in her chest again as he falls over the edge with her.

They finally relax, breathing heavily, holding on to each other.

"One more minute," she breathes, and he nods humming against her lips.

They indulge in a short round of kisses, luxuriating in the simple, affectionate contact.

"Miss touching you," Fitz murmurs, "Can't not touch you, makes me crazy."

"Shh, minute's not over yet, kiss me."

His tongue moves in long strokes over hers and she sighs, squeezing her thighs around him.

Eventually, he bends to put her down, pulling out of her and ripping open a box of tissues for them.

"We're horrible people, stealing tissues from elementary schoolers," she groans, slipping her wet underwear off.

"Well, we can pick up another box at the—what are you doing?" he asks suddenly, looking alarmed as she tosses a handful of tissues into the trash and reaches for her pants.

"What?"

He nods to her balled-up underwear, raising his eyebrows.

"Well I can't wear them _now_ , you ruined them," she explains slowly, as if its obvious.

He groans, pulling his pants up. "You're killing me, Liv."

She gives him an amused look. "Take them off next time, if you can't handle the consequences."

After they're dressed, he catches her arm, pulling her back to him.

"Are we okay?"

"We're fine," she answers shortly, trying to turn away from him.

"Nuh-uh, c'mere."

"Fitz—"

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Put your wall up, I hate that. I don't want it to be like this, I don't want to be fucking you in supply closets and then not talking afterward. That's not us."

"I don't—"

"Please look at me. _Look_ at me."

Reluctantly, she makes eye contact with him, and she can see how sorry he is, how much he cares about her. Almost instantly she starts to soften toward him, taking a step forward into his arms.

"I forget, sometimes. I forget."

"This is my job, Fitz. I know we're—this is my _job_."

"I know that."

"We can't— _this_ ," she says, gesturing between them, "We have to do a better job of separating _this_ from what happens out there."

He sighs, pulling her close. Olivia lets him hug her, laying her head against his chest, and she knows it's not all on him. They're both frustrated, they're both at fault today.

"I hate this."

"Me too," Olivia whispers.

* * *

 **Las Vegas, NV**

"Fitz, we can't."

"We can, and we are."

"It's so irresponsible, someone could see!"

"Livvie, we're alone and we have the entire executive suite at the Four Seasons all to ourselves, including a private, indoor pool—"

"—an indoor pool surrounded by _glass_."

"We're on the top floor! Do you honestly think someone with a long lens is on the roof of the Bellagio waiting for me to take a dip?"

"First of all, the Bellagio is behind us, not in front of us—"

"—you are begging for me to push you in that pool right now."

* * *

It's the most irresponsible thing they've ever done, swimming in their underwear with only glass and the night sky to cover them.

But it's completely worth it.

After he dives down to pull her underwater for the third time, she forgets about the slight possibility that they could be caught and focuses her attention on revenge.

"This isn't fair," she whines, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind, trying and failing to dunk him while he easily drags her around the pool, "You have roughly a hundred pounds on me."

Fitz laughs heartily, spinning around to catch her in his arms. "That's what makes it so fun."

"You're very mean," she mumbles against his mouth, although the smile in her eyes betrays her.

When he kisses her he tastes like chlorine and scotch, and the buoyancy of the water makes it easy to wrap her legs around his hips. He's not hard but he's not soft either, and Olivia sneaks a hand between them, lightly rubbing him with her palm.

"Mmm. Have you ever—"

Fitz ends his sentence with a splutter as she splashes his face, darting away through the water to the larger, deeper end of the pool. Shocked, he wipes his face and turns to look at her, watching as she takes her bra off beneath the surface, eyes glinting mischievously.

"You'd better watch it, looking at me like that," he warns, lowly, smiling at her.

Liv smirks, leaning back against the edge, careful to keep her breasts beneath the water. "You'll never catch me, I don't need to watch anything."

"Is that a challenge?"

He starts off toward her slowly, giving her a head start, and she keeps the distance between them easily.

The laughter that follows is something neither of them have experienced in far too long. For a little while, the stress of their situation and the campaign melts away. They're able to just be, to play, circling the pool, occasionally getting close enough to splash, giggling and teasing.

Eventually, he realizes that he really _can't_ catch her.

"What the—"

Lunging toward her, he nearly gets whiplash as she sinks under and quickly slips away from him again, smoothly coming up on the other side of the pool.

"Were you an _Olympian_ or something?" he asks incredulously, raising his eyebrows.

She bursts into laughter at his expression, quickly ducking under to smooth her curls. "Close! I was on the swim team in junior high and high school."

Fitz sighs, and it's his turn to pout. "Well are you ever going to come back over here? Or are you just gonna torture me all night?"

Taking pity on him, she glides smoothly through the water, colliding with him gently in the shallow end. "Does this mean I win?"

He lifts her to sit on the second to last step, watching her nipples harden when they come in contact with the air.

Olivia lifts his chin with her index finger, pulling him in close enough to whisper against his lips. "Say it."

"You win," he murmurs, kissing her, dropping down to suck her left nipple into his mouth.

* * *

 **Lincoln, NE**

"I'm proud of you."

It's a cool, almost cold night, crickets chirping over the hum of the hotel's heating system. They're sitting in the alley behind the hotel, somehow having been able to grab an extra bottle of champagne and sneak away unnoticed, although for once, what they're doing is fairly innocuous.

Fitz turns to her, watching as she takes another swig of champagne straight from the bottle, holding it out to him.

"What you did tonight, in the debate, I'm proud of you," she repeats, sliding a hand over his knee as he tips the bottle against his lips.

He takes a breath, clearing his throat as the bubbles pop all the way down. "I'm proud of myself, to be honest. I didn't really know I was going to do that until I got out there."

"You should be proud. You're—I saw _you_ , out there tonight, and so did those people. They trusted you, I saw it in their faces, Fitz. You were incredible."

His eyes are soft, and he looks so grateful for the encouragement, like it's the thing he needs to hear more than anything else in the entire world. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she smiles, nudging her shoulder against his, "Cyrus _cried_."

Fitz chuckles, taking another sip of champagne. "He's always been a softie. A little birdie told me someone else cried too."

"You know," she sighs, smiling, "It's really dusty here, my allergies have been acting up since we landed."

It's his turn to nudge her, grinning widely. "Uh-huh, sure."

"Really, though," Olivia starts, softly, "If you keep doing what you did tonight? If you keep letting them see what I see? They're going to fall in love with you."

Their gaze turns meaningful, a blush rising to her cheeks when she realizes what she's just implied.

It's their worst kept secret. They both feel it, but neither have said it out loud for fear of what it means, and what it _can't_ mean.

What happens to two people who are desperately in love, but can't be together?

They let it go for now, and he squeezes her hand, passing her the bottle.

"I feel good about it. My father definitely doesn't agree, but—"

"Oh, fuck him."

His eyebrows shoot up at her foul language, but she seems oblivious to his surprise, taking another gulp of champagne. He's still staring at her when she finally glances over at him.

"Seriously, fuck him. You were right, you're not like him, and you don't need to be."

"What happened to him being a 'national treasure'?"

"That was before I met him. He's an arrogant, sexist jerk, if he calls me 'honey' one more time—and the way he talks to you is disgusting. I'm glad you're not like him, I wouldn't want anything to do with you if you were."

After a beat, she realizes what she's just said and glances at him nervously, only to find him grinning incredulously.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't—"

"Don't you dare take any of that back. That's the most refreshing take on my father I've heard in years."

"I've had too much champagne, I think," Olivia sighs, "I'm not filtering the way I usually do."

He moves to nuzzle her hair out of the way, murmuring against her ear. "You don't need to censor yourself around me. In fact, I need to get you champagne-drunk more often if it means you'll curse."

Olivia giggles, in spite of herself, ducking away from him. "Fitz, we're—"

"—we're in public, I know," he sighs, leaning back out of her space.

* * *

 **Santa Barbara, CA**

The first night that they sleep together, actually _sleep_ together, is the night of his father's funeral.

Olivia holds him against her chest for long moments after he stops crying, until she can hear people in the distance and she knows they're in danger of being caught. It's almost painful to let him go, to ease his arms from around her when she knows he's not ready, that he still needs her.

"Tonight, okay?" she whispers, cupping his jaw in her hands.

His bloodshot eyes lock with hers and he nods, smoothing his hands over her hips one last time.

* * *

They're all exhausted, and there's something comforting about being in the Governor's Mansion, staying in a house instead of a hotel for a change, so they turn in early, around nine.

She waits for him, tucked into bed in one of at least a dozen guest rooms, and the irony of the moment isn't lost on her. Three months ago, waiting for him in the dark like this made her question everything. She'd constantly wondered why she did or didn't have one feeling or another, silently berating herself.

Tonight, she still doesn't feel guilty, or cheap, or any of the words that could be associated with an affair, but it's nothing new.

Tonight, she feels warm, and tender toward him, overwhelmed with the need to give him comfort and support in any way she can. When he comes into her bedroom, quietly closing and locking the door behind him, she's not thinking about the fact that he's married, because when they're together, he isn't.

When they're together, they're just Fitz and Liv.

And maybe she _is_ in a bit of denial. Maybe they're both in denial that this beautiful mess they've created will always be just a mess, just a dream, just a misalignment of the planets, two people colliding in the wrong place at the wrong time.

They don't care. They can't.

Fitz climbs under the covers with her, breathing out on a sigh of relief as he pulls her close. She tilts her face up to kiss him a couple of times, long presses that don't build to anything, kisses just for the sake of kissing.

"C'mere," she murmurs, guiding his head back to her chest, picking up where they'd left off.

He lets her settle him and breathes deeply, taking a long, slow inhale of lavender and vanilla. Her scent is so much more powerful at night, after she's showered and freshly applied whatever creams and lotions she uses. He wishes he knew what the bottles looked like, that he could get away in time to shower with her and rub them into her skin himself. He wishes her toiletries were mixed in with his, taking up too much space and giving him a reason to tease her.

It makes his chest ache, the things they don't get to do, the parts of her that he still doesn't know.

He almost doesn't want to sleep, he doesn't want to waste any time with her, but he can feel it pulling at him. She's warm and soft, her fingers are stroking through his hair in the most soothing way, and he can barely keep his eyes open.

"I set an alarm for four-thirty," she whispers, yawning, "Sleep, Fitz."

At four-thirty, he'll step back out into the real world. He'll leave her and sneak back into bed with a woman he doesn't love.

But for now, they drift off together, living in the moment.

* * *

 **A/N: As always, thank you for reading and let me know what you thought!**


	26. The Firsts: VII

_**A/N: I was taking suggestions on Tumblr a while ago and some people really wanted to see Liv have an "oops" moment, so I wrote that. Along with Halloween fluffiness, because why not?**_

* * *

 _ **The First Halloween – 4 Months Old**_

"Hello?" Olivia calls softly, toeing her heels off by the front door.

Her stomach flips with excitement, giddy at the prospect of seeing Micah after being away most of the day. She's only stayed a few full days at work so far, easing their transition with half days and working from home.

But today, she's been gone all day and she wants her baby, _now_.

"Fitz?" she tries again, dropping her purse and coat off in the closet.

Something smells heavenly so she knows they're here somewhere, and she makes her way toward the kitchen with her cooler bag of pumped milk.

"I hear Mommy…"

Fitz appears in the kitchen doorway carrying Micah, and she bursts into surprised laughter.

"What did Daddy do to you? Hi baby," she laughs, reaching for him, kissing his cheeks, "My little pumpkin is a pumpkin!"

Micah's wearing a full-body pumpkin costume, complete with a green-stemmed hat, looking completely unperturbed by his new outfit.

Fitz trades her the baby for her bag, and she follows him into the kitchen.

"What do you think about this?" she giggles, rubbing his belly through the puffy costume, "Where did you get this thing?"

"Amazon," Fitz smiles proudly, transferring the plastic bags of breast milk into the freezer for her, "I think he likes it, its got fleece on the inside so it's really soft."

"Well that's good, we want you to be warm and cozy, right?"

Micah's looking at her in wonder, as if for some reason he's been thinking she might not come back.

"Hi baby, hi," she coos, smiling at him, laughing when his face splits into a grin and he gets the happy wiggles.

Fitz turns away to stir the soup, giving her space to focus on Micah, knowing how much she's missed him.

Their current arrangement is one that he had proposed from the very beginning, and it's been working out well so far. He loves staying home with his son, he's getting precious time with him that he missed with his other children, and it's been incredibly life-giving.

She needs to work, they both know it, and even though it's hard for her to be away from Micah, what she does is part of who she is. Motherhood hasn't changed her as a person, it's simply added another layer, another wonderful facet to her life.

"Did you have a good day, you little pumpkin? I missed you. I missed these cheeks."

"I'll just be over here," Fitz sighs dramatically after a few minutes, "Whenever you're ready to say hello to _me_."

Liv looks over at him, and scoops Micah back up from the kitchen table where he's been sitting while she holds him up and talks to him.

"Uh-oh, Daddy's getting jealous," she stage-whispers to the baby.

Fitz smiles, keeping his back turned to feign hurt. It's a running joke between them that Micah has taken his place, but they both know he's not serious. He _loves_ to see her with their son, loves to watch her bond with him.

"Didn't you miss me too?" he teases, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel as she walks over to him.

Olivia chuckles, tipping her chin up for a kiss, sighing when he lingers a bit. "Of course I did. _What_ are you cooking, it smells amazing."

He stirs the soup again and offers her some to taste, watching her eyes widen when she does.

" _Mmm_. What is that?"

"Butternut squash soup! It was way easier than I thought, I've got bread for us to dip in it too."

"I'm starving."

"You're always starving," he laughs, pulling bowls down from the cabinet.

"You would be too if you were feeding this chunky boy. Thank god you can cook, otherwise we'd all starve."

"No we wouldn't. We'd just live on popcorn."

"Ha. Ha. Ha." she deadpans, poking him in the shoulder, "How long are we going to keep him in this thing?"

"Until we take some pictures. It's his first Halloween, Liv. All babies have to be pumpkins for Halloween at least once, it's a rule."

* * *

 _ **The First Accident – 5 Months Old**_

"Is that so funny? Is Mommy so funny? Does that tickle?"

Micah squeals, kicking his legs as Olivia gently prods her fingers underneath his arms, into the creases of his thighs, tickling him mercilessly.

She pauses, grinning down at him, letting her hands hover over him. "I'm…gonna…get you!"

The anticipation makes him shriek with laughter when she finally reaches down to tickle him again, laughing along with him.

"You're so happy tonight, I love it," she giggles, leaning down to smooch his cheeks. "Little chunk, I wanna eat you."

Growling playfully, she pretends to nibble at his thighs and blows a raspberry against his neck, making him belly laugh.

"You were such a good boy for Daddy today, huh? He told me you took a good nap, and then you read some books, and then you let Daddy take a whole phone call for his foundation. So good!"

Micah kicks his legs, wiggling and listening intently from his spot on the couch cushion, happy to have his mom's undivided attention after being away from her all day.

"You have such a good Daddy, do you know that? You are so lucky to hang out with him all day, you guys are going to have even more fun when you're bigger."

His big brown eyes are watching her with complete concentration as he wiggles, widening expressively every so often.

"Oh my goodness you're drooley. We need a bib, pumpkin," she comments, looking around for a burp cloth, "There's one. Don't go anywhere, okay?"

Making sure Micah is securely on his back, Olivia quickly stands to grab the cloth from the other end of the U-shaped sectional.

In a split second, just as she's reaching for it, there's a thud, followed by a piercing cry.

The breath leaves her lungs, and her heart flies into her throat as she whips around to find Micah crying on the carpet on his belly, arms stretched out wide.

"Oh my gosh, oh…"

Liv hurries to scoop him up, heart racing, and cuddles him against her shoulder as he wails.

"Okay, you're okay, it's okay…Fitz!"

The panic in her voice has him jogging down the hallway from the office.

"What's wrong? What happened?" he breathes, looking on in confusion as Micah sobs.

"He rolled off the couch," she admits breathlessly, rubbing the baby's back, trying to check him over at the same time.

Fitz's expression immediately softens. "Oh. Aww, buddy, it's okay, that scared you, huh? Lemme see, did you bump your head?"

He takes advantage of Micah's position over Olivia's shoulder and starts to check for injuries, any sign that he landed on his head.

"I think you're okay big guy, but I bet that was—oh, Liv, it's okay," he reassures her, eyes widening when she turns around with tears running down her face.

"No, it's not," she says tearfully, "Should we take him to the emergency room?"

Fitz tries and fails to keep the amusement out of his expression. "No, I don't think we need—"

"You're _laughing_ at me right now?! He fell! He probably hit his head!"

"I'm not laughing at you, I promise," he smiles, trying to make her feel better, "It's just—this happens with babies all the time, he's going to be fine. Did you see what happened?"

"No," she admits, chin trembling, unconsciously rocking Micah back and forth as he whimpers, "I left him on the cushion for one second, on his _back_ , and he must've rolled off."

"He's rolled back to belly a few times now, I'm sure that's exactly what happened."

"And you didn't think to _tell_ me that! I didn't know he rolled the other way!"

"Liv, he's managed it maybe twice, how was I supposed to know he'd perfect it while unsupervised on the couch?"

That is _completely_ the wrong thing to say, and her face dissolves into tears again. "Oh my god, I'm a terrible mom—"

"No—sweetheart, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that—"

"—how could I take my eyes off of him? How could I do that?"

"—you can't watch him every second, it wasn't your—"

"I just left him dangling on the edge of the couch to fend for himself, what was I thinking?"

"I'm telling you, this happens all the time, we can look it up on those mommy blogs you read and I'm sure—"

"—poor little guy, I'm supposed to be protecting him, and I just let him fall right on his head. Fitz, we need to take him to the emergency room, he could have a concussion."

"He's not even crying anymore," Fitz points out, gently.

"What?"

In all of her panicking, she's failed to notice that Micah is now completely calm, lounging comfortably against her shoulder, sucking noisily on his fist.

"Are you okay, buddy?" she asks softly, her voice taking on a much calmer tone as she talks directly to Micah.

"Here, let's go sit, and we'll look him over," Fitz suggests quietly, guiding her back over to the couch with a hand on her lower back.

Olivia lets him coax her to sit down, and she turns Micah around in her lap so that he's facing out, settled against her chest.

"Okay, my man, let's prove to Mommy that you're fine, okay? Oh, that's a good smile, that's already a good sign, huh?"

He takes Micah's little arms and bends them carefully, playing an impromptu game of pattycake.

"Well, your head looks okay and your arms do too," he coos, grinning back when the baby smiles at him, "Maybe you just landed right on this big belly. Did you land on this?"

Fitz pokes Micah's belly, tickling him gently, and he laughs, wiggling happily.

"See? No more crying, you're alright. I think maybe Mommy was more scared than you were."

Liv finally cracks a smile when he teases her good-naturedly, hugging her arms around Micah and pressing kisses into his curls, examining his arms for herself. She watches as Fitz plays with him for a few more minutes, making him laugh and screech, trying to diffuse the moment.

"He does seem okay," she says skeptically, smoothing her palm over his hair.

Noting the anxiety in her voice, Fitz sighs and levels his gaze with hers. "Olivia, will you feel better if we call the ped's emergency number and talk to a nurse?"

"Yes," she breathes immediately, looking immensely grateful and relieved that's he's suggested it.

He chuckles quietly, standing up to find his cell phone.

Micah starts to squirm and protest in her lap when his dad disappears, no longer being entertained.

"Okay pumpkin, I hear you," Liv murmurs, sliding down onto the floor and pulling a few of his toys over.

A bright green rabbit with teething rings attached to it catches his attention first, and she helps him grab for it, propping him up in the vee of her legs so that he can practice sitting up.

Fitz reappears with his cell phone on speaker, navigating through their pediatrician's call menu to the after-hours line. Elevator music plays through the speaker after a second and he sighs, sitting down on the couch adjacent to them.

"Children's National, this is Tia, is this an emergency?"

"Hi Tia," Fitz greets, sitting forward on the sofa, "No, we're pretty certain it's not an emergency."

"I don't hear anyone screaming in the background, so I'd tend to agree with you right off the bat. What can I help you with?"

"Well, we've had a little accident here tonight with our son, he rolled off the couch."

"Oh goodness," Tia chuckles, "How old is he, how far did he fall, and what do you think he landed on?"

Fitz looks pointedly at Olivia, who is biting her lip nervously. "Do you get this call a lot?"

"All the time. It's one of our most common calls."

Liv smiles sheepishly at him, leaning down to kiss Micah's temple.

After Fitz details his fall to the nurse, and his behavior since, she agrees that everything sounds pretty normal.

"If he seems extra sleepy, or you notice him acting strange at all, give us a call back. But from what you've told me I think he's just fine, okay? Tell mom not to worry."

Fitz chuckles. "You've really got us figured out."

"Well, thirty years of experience will do that," Tia laughs, "Have a good night!"

He ends the call and sighs, watching Micah gnaw on a teething ring, drooling spectacularly.

"Do you feel better?"

"Yes," she murmurs, somewhat reluctantly, watching Micah play, "I just wanted to check. I guess maybe he's a little more durable than I thought."

"Never hurts to be cautious," he reassures her, smiling to himself as he presses a kiss into her hair.

* * *

Later, Fitz finally convinces her to let Micah out of her sight for a few minutes, only to realize he needs her to come back.

"Hey, Liv?"

He hears something crash to the floor, and then her quick footsteps coming down the stairs.

"What's wrong?" she breathes, coming back to the living room in her bathrobe, "Is he okay? Does he look—"

"Livvie, relax. I just wanted to tell you that I think he's getting hungry," Fitz explains turning to show her that Micah's currently slumped against his chest, making disgruntled noises and trying to suck on his collarbone.

Olivia blinks, feeling a little foolish as her panic subsides. "Oh. You're right, he does look hungry."

"Here bud, Mommy can do a better job of fixing that than I can," Fitz explains, handing Micah over to her when she's settled next to them on the sofa.

As soon as she takes him he starts to fuss, knowing food is nearby but not coming quickly enough.

"Patience, baby," she coos, loosening the top of her robe, "You give him enough bottles, I think he probably associates both of us with food by now."

"You and I both know he doesn't get as excited about a bottle as he does about the boob. He wouldn't even take one right now, I bet."

As if to illustrate a point, Micah lets out a deep sigh of contentment after he's latched on to her breast, eating enthusiastically.

Olivia smiles down at him, gently smoothing his curls. "Remember when he fit in this robe? I could cuddle him on my chest and wrap him up."

"He's growing, that's for sure. He'll be crawling before we know it. And then walking," Fitz sighs, looking on while they nurse.

"We need to get him a helmet."

When he looks at her and sees how serious she is about her suggestion, he loses it, bursting into laughter.

"Fitz, I'm serious! I'm not going to be able to handle him bumping into things when he starts moving around."

"He is _not_ wearing a baby helmet," he wheezes, still laughing at her.

She bites the inside of her cheek, determined not to smile. "Stop _laughing_."

"Liv, you're gonna have to toughen up a little bit. He's going to get hurt, that's what kids do."

"We'll see about the helmet, won't we pumpkin…"

* * *

 _ **A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know what you thought!**_


	27. Made For This

**A/N: This takes place in the week between 4x22 and 5x01...**

* * *

"Mr. President…Mr. President…"

Her teasing voice lilts gently into his subconscious, rousing him slowly.

He moans quietly. "No…s'not time yet."

"Wake up, Mr. President," she murmurs, laughing softly.

Soft, full lips rub slowly over the whorls of his ear, sliding down to bite gently on the tender lobe. At the same time a small, warm hand traces circles over his chest, down over his abs, palm pressing briefly, too briefly, against the semi-hard bulge between his legs.

Waking up to her lips, her hands, her warmth, is the sweetest paradise.

His body melts back against her and she hums, absently kissing his shoulder, the back of his neck.

"So _sleepy_."

"Well, someone's been keeping me up all night," he rumbles, basking in the sensation of her petite form pressed along his back.

She scoffs, and then _yawns_ , prompting him to vibrate with soft laughter. "Me? You're the one who's barely let me go home for the past four days."

"What does that have to do with being up all night?"

He rolls over and he's all sleepy blue eyes, and messy curls, and smooth, warm muscle, and she just _can't_ with him.

Immediately, his lips are on hers and he's _mmm_ -ing low in his chest, the deep sound stirring warmth in her hips. They've been at a base level of constant arousal for days, gentle waves that heat her body all the way down to the tips of her fingers and toes, an involuntary response that's both sensual and comforting.

"When did you put clothes on?" he asks petulantly, hands sliding beneath the silky material of her top, easily pulling it off.

"After you passed out," she teases, pressing her bare breasts against his chest, sighing into another kiss.

Guiding her thigh around his hip, he instinctually rocks them together a few times to make her moan.

He'll never get tired of that sound.

"You can sleep naked, you know, if you want," Fitz murmurs, smoothing his hand back and forth over her thigh, "The staff won't barge in here unless there's an emergency. If they need me they'll call first."

Liv blushes, rubbing her hand down his back. "I know the protocol. I'm just…"

"You're not used to having people around," he finishes for her, smiling gently.

"I'm not used to having _strangers_ around," she corrects.

"They won't be strangers after a few weeks."

They exchange knowing, contented smiles.

 _A few weeks._

Because they're doing whatever they want now, and what they want, is to be together.

Olivia burrows deeper beneath the covers and closes her eyes, tipping her face toward him so that his lips land on her forehead.

"What's your day?" she asks sleepily, letting her hand wander over the dips of muscle across his upper back.

His morning timbre is low and soft, his voice vibrating through his chest and into hers where they're pressed together. "Same thing I do every day. Meetings. Reading stuff. Getting bossed around by Abby. President-ey things. What about you, what are you gonna do today?"

She giggles at his description. "Olivia Pope-ish things. Things that generally keep this town from imploding, business as usual."

Fitz puckers his lips into a kiss against her forehead, ghosting his mouth over her closed eyes, her cheeks, rolling her onto her back. She sighs happily, soothed by the pressure of his body, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"So," she murmurs, fingers playing in his hair while he nuzzles her neck, rubbing his lips across her shoulders to make her shiver, "Are you gonna sign the—"

"Shh…no politics while I'm trying to make love to you."

"I don't know if we have time," Liv breathes, letting him pull her arms above her head and clasp their hands together.

Pressing their joined hands into her pillow, he grins and nips at her ear. "You are so cute, waking me up early, and then pretending you didn't have ulterior motives. My turn to be on top."

She laughs quietly, wrapping her legs around his hips, freeing her hands so that she can cradle his face.

Their breathing picks up as they start to kiss, with long, wet presses and lazy tongues, rocking hips and wandering hands. After a few minutes her sighs start to become moans, and he kisses down her neck, pausing to suck and use his teeth.

 _Her moans._

He loves her moans, he loves all of her noises, really, and he's well-versed in each one.

He plans on spending the rest of his life cataloguing all of her beautiful sounds, and discovering new ones along the way.

Pulling her pajama shorts and underwear off, he settles between her thighs again, one of his hands sliding down to her folds. He smirks against her lips when he finds her soaked already, pressing in slowly.

"Okay?" he murmurs, gently sliding two fingers in and out of her.

Her eyes are hooded with arousal, and she nods, gaze fixated on the way his eyes dilate when she clenches her muscles.

"Not sore?"

They've been having a _lot_ of sex, and he's sweet to ask, but she shakes her head, kissing him languidly.

"You're… _oh_ …you're too good to me for me to be sore," she murmurs, reaching down to pull his hand from her, raising slick fingers to his mouth, "Always so ready for you."

Olivia watches him suck the evidence of her arousal away, lifting her hips so that he can slide a pillow beneath them. Her legs fall open and she relaxes into the bed, letting her eyes drift closed when he catches her mouth in a kiss, reaching down to coat himself in her wetness.

Their limbs tangle after he connects their bodies, and he grinds his hips down, groaning into her neck.

Her muscles are rippling around him already. Hyper-sensitive from his fingers, from being wrapped up in him all night, all morning, all _week_ , just the stretch of him pushes her close to the edge. He can tell by her gasp that she wasn't expecting it, and that's his favorite, when she's so relaxed that it sneaks up on her.

"Are you— _fuck_."

She whimpers, panting against his temple, "Baby, I'm gonna come."

He's watched her orgasm more times than he can count, but it's _always_ incredible.

Pulling back so he can see her face, he presses his thumb against her clit, rocks forward, and that's all it takes. Her mouth falls open, her breath catches, her nails dig into his back, and she's _just_ exquisite. He watches her with dark eyes, keeping his hips still so he can feel the first few contractions of her muscles, the most powerful ones, and it makes him moan as the pressure behind his own release builds.

Fitz resumes gentle thrusts when she starts to roll her hips, watching her pant and shake. Her whole body twitches as she comes down, and he drops to his elbows to watch her, the furrow of her brows, the flush across her chest, the way she's biting her lips, she's gorgeous when she comes.

It makes him swell with pride, that he can do this for her, that he can give her this kind of pleasure, that he's the _only_ one who gets to see her like this.

Her eyes have barely fluttered open before her hips are rising against him.

" _Move, baby…that felt so…you feel so good…_ "

" _Mmm…love you…Livvie…_ "

" _Love you…_ "

Despite the rising sun, the call of the day, they're lazy and sleepy and they take their time.

They push and pull and take each other apart, because they can.

Because it's what they were _made to do_.

* * *

 **A/N: I really felt like writing some fluff and sexiness. Hope you enjoyed it :-)**


	28. The Firsts: VIII

**A/N: YOU GUYS, I had SO MUCH FUN writing this one :-D**

* * *

 **The First Suit - 3 Years Old**

A loud growl echoes through the hallway outside the closed master bedroom door, followed by retreating squeals of laughter.

"What the heck are they doing?" Karen asks, dusting highlight over her cheekbones in the bathroom mirror, "Aren't they supposed to be getting ready?"

Olivia chuckles next to her, unpinning her last curl. "That sounds like "the grizzly bear game" to me, it's a crowd favorite around here."

"Do you want me to go attempt to restore order?"

"No, it's better if they run off some of their energy before we get there, that way getting them to hold still for ten minutes won't be completely impossible," Liv sighs, carefully arranging her curls with the end of a brush.

"I wish I still had that kind of energy," Karen laments.

Olivia bursts into laughter, leaning over to nudge her playfully, "Please! You are twenty years old! You should be _full_ of energy!"

"College is _exhausting_ , Liv."

"I know," Liv pretends to sympathize, "And just imagine, you haven't even gotten into the real world yet."

"Why do adults always say that?"

"Because it's true."

Karen hops up onto the marble counter, watching as Liv carefully pins her hair back and picks up an eyeshadow brush.

"What did you major in? Before law school, I mean."

"Political science, Russian, and Italian," Olivia answers, leaning forward as she dusts neutral cocoa shadow across her lids, up to her browbone.

Karen's eyes grow wide. "You _triple_ -majored?"

"I minored in Italian, I was mostly fluent by that point anyway."

"Can I finish?" Karen offers, picking up the eyeshadow palette.

Liv smiles and hands over her brushes, turning toward the young woman and closing her eyes. "Not too heavy."

"I _know_."

She picks a barely shimmering bronze shade, carefully concentrating it across Olivia's lids.

"How's your screenwriting class going? I know you weren't thrilled about it."

Karen shrugs, picking up a clean brush to blend her work. "It's fine. It's just not my favorite, I don't like when things are so structured, when there's too much technical shit to keep in mind. I just want to _write_. Liner?"

Olivia passes her a soft espresso pencil and closes her eyes, smiling as footsteps thunder past the bedroom door again, chasing giggles and shrieks.

"Hey. You're scrunching."

"Sorry," Liv says, pretending to snap to attention, relaxing her eyes as Karen smudges the pencil against her lash line, "Well are you still writing? In your spare time, I mean?"

"I am. I want to start trying to publish as soon as I graduate. I like school, I just wish every class could be creative writing, you know?"

"They just want your degree to be well-rounded. But I _do_ know what you mean, calculus nearly killed me."

Karen giggles. "You were bad at math?"

"I wasn't bad at it, I just hated it," Olivia scoffs, smirking, "I never saw the point. What do lawyers need math for, besides multiplying their hourly rate?"

"You didn't _really_ become a lawyer though."

"Exactly, and I still haven't needed calculus. Not once."

Karen uses her thumb to carefully brush away a bit of fallen shadow from Liv's cheek.

"You need mascara," she says absently, capping the eyeliner.

They're quiet for a moment as Olivia curls her eyelashes, carefully squeezing the metal curler.

"Mom's really been getting on me lately to minor in something," Karen admits softly, staring at her lap, playing with the tube of mascara, "Biology, or marketing, 'something useful'."

Olivia pauses, hearing the unspoken question in the statement. She's careful about giving her opinion on anything regarding Mellie, especially where Karen's concerned, but she's no stranger to the desire to make a parent happy.

"She just wants you to keep an open mind," she says carefully, glancing over.

After a beat, Karen takes a breath and looks up, meeting Olivia's eyes in the mirror. "What do you think, though?"

Setting the eyelash curler down, Liv turns to face her, reaching out to bring Karen's long brown hair over her shoulder.

"I think," she starts slowly, "That you're young, and passionate, and you should direct that energy toward your dream. It doesn't hurt to try new things, but, go with your gut. Your gut will never steer you wrong."

She watches Karen smile slowly, nodding, the uncertainty leaving her eyes.

"No way," Liv warns as she brandishes the mascara wand.

"Oh, c'mon."

"You can do blush, I'm not about to lose an eye."

"Fine," Karen giggles, handing the mascara over, "I'm gonna go change."

"Oh, will you grab my dress too? We need to get a move on, we're running late already."

Not long after, just as Karen's zipping her dress, an explosion of noise comes down the hallway, followed by small hands banging on the bedroom door.

"Should I let them in?" Karen laughs, settling the zipper toggle into place.

Olivia smiles, rolling her eyes. "Yes, better go save them."

She listens as the bedroom door opens, and the two boys tumble into the room.

"Kay! Help us!"

"Hey, squirt. _What_ are you guys doing?"

"Dad's chasing us!" Teddy pants, diving onto the floor, crawling under the bed.

"Hide me Kay!" Micah giggles, circling his older sister, trying to hide in her dress.

"Oh my gosh, Mo, go show your mom how cute you look."

"Mommy! I have a tie like Daddy!"

"You do?!" Liv calls excitedly from the bathroom, fixing a rogue curl.

Micah trots around the corner, and Olivia thinks she might die from the cuteness of her little boy in a suit.

"Come over here," she laughs, kneeling down, "Let me see your tie."

"I have stripes on it!"

"I see that," she gasps, straightening his black suit pants, his little vest, his brightly-colored striped tie, "Did you pick it out?"

"Umm yes, from the store. And Daddy chasing us."

"Oh, Daddy was chasing you? I heard, he's funny, huh?"

"He's a bear. But iss juss a-tend."

"Yeah, its just pretend—"

"Mommy?" Micah asks, reaching his hand out to gently touch her hair, something he has a habit of doing.

"What?"

"I can have my tie?"

"Yes, you can keep it, Daddy bought it."

"Yessss!" Micah exclaims, jumping a little, something he must have picked up from Teddy.

"Okay," she laughs, "Now, show me one more time how you're gonna smile when we take the pictures today."

Micah cheeses _hard_ , smiling with all of his teeth, throwing his whole body into it.

"That is the _best_ smile I have ever seen."

"Mommy?"

"What?"

"Umm, how many?"

"How many what?"

"How many times for pi-chures?"

"How many pictures are we gonna take? Oh, I don't know, just a couple. Not that many."

"Mommy?"

"What?"

"Kay and Teddy are coming?"

"Yup, they're coming too!"

"And Daddy?"

"Daddy, too."

"Yessss!"

Olivia laughs again, squeezing Micah into a hug.

"Alright Mr. Cool, do you have to go potty before I tuck your shirt in?"

"Umm, no."

"Okay, well, lets just try anyway," Liv suggests casually, already guiding him over to the toilet.

"Hey, Liv? Are we leaving soon?" Teddy asks from the doorway, fidgeting with his own tie.

"We are, as soon as your brother goes to the bathroom."

"Mommy, I don't—"

"Micah, we're all going, Teddy is going to try too, right now, right Teddy?" Liv implores, shooting Teddy a meaningful look.

"No, I don't nee—I mean, yes! I'm going too, in the other bathroom, be right back."

As Teddy darts down the hall, Fitz appears, strolling into the room. He eyes the closed bathroom door and then his daughter, sitting on the armchair in the corner, texting on her phone.

"Well, are we ready or what?"

"Almost," Karen mumbles, glancing up at him after a minute, "Wow, Dad, you look great! I feel like I haven't seen you in anything but jeans in years."

"Thanks Kare," he chuckles, hands in his pockets, "What's Liv doing?"

"Trying to get Micah to pee before we leave."

Fitz nods knowingly, having attempted this many times before.

After a few minutes the toilet flushes and he can hear water running, followed by quick footsteps.

"Teddy I goed!" Micah yells, running from the room in search of his big brother.

Fitz moves to call after him, but at the same time, Liv exits the bathroom and meets his eyes, immediately stealing his ability to form sentences.

Karen keenly notices their tunnel vision and sighs, locking her phone. "I'm gonna go help Micah with his shoes."

"Thanks Karen," Liv breathes, not breaking eye contact.

They haven't had much time alone today, having been awoken by Micah leaping onto their bed in excitement, and buzzing around getting everyone ready ever since.

Fitz takes a few slow steps toward her, smiling softly, reaching out to put his hands on her as soon as he's close enough.

"You look _incredible_ ," he murmurs, hands tracing a path down the sides of her body, cupping her hips, sliding over her back.

Her dress is fitted, knee-length, sleeveless, with a gentle scoop neckline that highlights her collarbones. It's simple and chic, barely off-white, but the fabric has just enough sheen to it that it's special, that she looks like she's glowing.

"You like it?"

"It's perfect. You're perfect."

Her cheeks flush and she glances down, moving to straighten his cream-colored tie. "You're not so bad yourself, mister."

Looping her arms around his neck, she steps in, lets him pull her against his chest. Their eyes meet again and hold there, searching, taking a quiet moment to themselves.

Eventually, she tightens her arms and pulls him down into a kiss, sighing softly.

"You ready to go get married?"

"Mmm-hmm," he hums, smiling against her lips.

* * *

Three of their most trusted secret service agents accompany the small group to the courthouse, forming a casual perimeter around them. Thankfully, they're able to park in the basement and use a private entrance, eliminating the risk of drawing attention to themselves.

"Aunt Bee!" Micah exclaims, yanking his hand away from Olivia as soon as the elevator doors open, revealing their witness already waiting for them.

Abby laughs, bending down to catch the little boy in her arms. "Hey bud! Well, don't you look handsome."

"I have a tie like Daddy!"

"I see that! Did you tie it all by yourself?"

"Umm no, Daddy did."

"I had to sit him in front of me and do it," Fitz laughs, "Who knew doing it backward was so hard?"

Olivia sets her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes at her best friend. "What is _everybody_ doing here?"

"Please. Like we'd let you get married without us? Not happening, we're family, remember?" Marcus chimes in, nudging Huck in the ribs, "Right?"

Huck nods, silently holding his hand out to Micah for a high-five, smiling when the preschooler slaps his hand with all of his strength.

Olivia shakes her head slowly and steps forward to hug each of them in turn. Abby already has tears in her eyes, and Liv almost tears up herself at Huck's quiet murmur of ' _I'm really happy for you, Liv. You deserve this'_.

They mill around outside the judge's office, trying to keep the kids entertained, waiting their turn.

Fitz glances at his watch. "They should call us any minute now, we're just waiting on— _oof_."

"Uncle Fitz!"

"Hey, Ella Bean!" Fitz laughs, turning around after his goddaughter crashes into him at top speed, hugging him around the legs.

"Uncle Fitz, you're having a wedding?"

"Yup, we're here to have a wedding. Thanks for coming, I'm so happy you're here."

He turns to greet Cyrus and Michael, hugging them warmly.

The hallway gets a little louder after that, everyone talking and laughing, Teddy and Ella running circles through the crowd of adults.

Olivia's in the middle of an animated conversation with Marcus when she feels pressure against her leg, little hands on her skin. She doesn't have to look to know that it's Micah, and she absently runs her fingers through his curls, encouraging him to rest his head on her for a moment.

Even though her little boy is growing up, he's still prone to getting overstimulated in a crowd, even a crowd of people he knows well. He instinctually seeks her out when he gets overwhelmed, clingy and quiet.

After a few minutes, when he hasn't let go of her, she walks them to a nearby bench and lifts him into her lap.

"Hi," she says softly, watching him take it all in, "Are you having a fun day?"

"I didn't see you," he says, playing with the band of her watch.

"Oh, you were playing and you couldn't see me? That's okay, we're with all of our friends, they're not strangers."

He lays his head on her shoulder and her heart melts. She'd been hoping the excitement of the day would keep him going, but he still takes a short nap most days, and she realizes disaster could be imminent.

Hoping he just needs a time-out to recharge his batteries, she cuddles him, resting her cheek against his head. He's quiet for a few minutes, now playing with the tiny knob on her watch.

"Mommy?" he asks suddenly, sitting up.

"What?"

"What's 'married'?"

They've already tried to explain the concept of what they're doing today, but he hasn't fully grasped it yet.

"Well," she starts, "'Married' means that two grown-ups who are in love make a deal that they're going to be together, forever."

She goes with the simplest explanation she can think of, trying to help him understand.

"A boy and a girl?"

"Mommy and Daddy are a boy and a girl, but two girls can be married, and so can two boys, like Uncle Cyrus and Michael."

Micah contemplates this for a moment. "Oh. Is Aunt Bee married?"

"No, Aunt Abby isn't married. But she could get married someday, if she wanted."

"When?"

"When? I don't know."

"Oh."

She watches Micah look around, his brain working hard to grasp what she's told him.

"Do you have any more questions about Mommy and Daddy getting married?"

"Umm, yes."

"What, baby?"

"When is Mommy and Daddy get married?"

She bites the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. "When are Mommy and Daddy getting married? Soon, I think in just a couple minutes."

"Oh, 'kay."

At that moment Fitz appears, kneeling down beside them. "Here's my buddy, what's going on over here?"

"We just needed to take a little break," Liv explains, smoothing Micah's curls.

"Oh, well, that's good, we all need a break sometimes," he smiles, "Micah, guess what?"

"What?"

"Do you remember I told you that I had a super extra special job for you and Teddy today?"

Micah's eyes grow huge and round as he nods, suddenly remembering.

"This," he says with a flourish, pulling a ring box from his pocket, "Is Mommy's ring, from Daddy, and I need you to hold it and keep it safe. Can you do that for me?"

Micah puts on his most serious, shocked face and turns to look at Olivia, who nods encouragingly.

"This iss Mommy's ring?" he asks, turning the box over in his small hands, trying and failing to pry it open.

"Yup, its for Mommy. So, you put it in your pocket, and when I tell you, you'll bring it to me so I can give it to her. Okay?"

"I give it to her."

Olivia stifles another laugh, knowing that was coming.

"Well," Fitz chuckles, "I'm going to give her this one. But remember we have our secret present for Mommy? The one you're gonna give her later?"

"Oh yeah!" Micah exclaims, "I didn't tell!"

"I know you didn't! You did such a good job!"

Micah wiggles down from Olivia's lap and runs off. "Teddy! I got a job!"

Olivia stands, raising an eyebrow at him. "Are you sure that was wise?"

"Your ring is in my pocket," Fitz sighs, reaching out to draw her into his side, "Its an empty box, he'll never know the difference. I just wanted him to feel important."

She leans in to kiss him, whispering against his mouth. "You're a great dad. What's this about a secret present?"

"Ah, don't worry about that," he says slyly, turning her in his arms.

"Pope? And Grant?"

Olivia's eyes widen slightly as the clerk's voice calls out.

Fitz takes a deep breath and rubs her arms, looking every bit as nervously excited as she feels.

"That's us."

* * *

Everything is ready for them when they walk into the courtroom.

It takes a few minutes to arrange everybody, filing all of their witnesses into the jury box, gently reminding Teddy and Micah what's expected of them for the next ten minutes.

When they're finally situated, and Olivia turns to face him, she finds that she's surprisingly calm. His eyes are soft and familiar, looking at her like she's the only person in the room, and what they're about to do feels so _right_.

"Alright, everyone, welcome," Judge Hernandez begins, stepping forward with a smile on her face, "Ms. Pope? Mr. Grant? Are you ready to start?"

Fitz takes a deep breath, nodding to his fiancée. "I think so. You ready to do this?"

"Mmm hmm," she nods, stepping closer to him, "Put a ring on it, mister."

Their guests cheer in agreement and Abby whoops loudly, camera poised for her unofficial role of wedding photographer.

"Okay, great," the judge laughs, "Well, you've opted not to do any traditional pomp and circumstance, so basically I'll just ask you one 'I do' question, I'll watch you and your witnesses sign, and that will be it. I don't have vows on the agenda, but do the two of you have anything you want to say to each other before you sign?"

"I don't think so," Olivia laughs, nervously, "He promised he wasn't going to make me cry in front of everyone."

Everyone chuckles quietly, watching as Fitz smiles and pulls her close.

"Fitz," she warns, her breath catching, hands coming to rest on his biceps.

"I have to take a minute, Livvie."

Their witnesses look on as he presses his cheek against hers, wrapping his arms around her back. No one can hear what he's saying, but they watch as he murmurs against her ear for a minute, her eyes closing, brows furrowing with emotion.

Olivia nods along in silent agreement as he whispers to her, sliding her hands slowly over his arms. She tries and fails to keep it together, tears slipping down her face, and when he finally pulls back his eyes are wet too.

The room is completely silent, everyone caught up in the emotional exchange, acutely aware of how long the couple has waited, how much they've been through together.

" _I love you_ ," Liv tells him quietly, looking into his eyes, cradling his face in her hands.

They can't help but kiss, pressing their lips together for a few seconds.

Karen clears her throat, sighing. "Geez, you guys, that part comes at the _end_."

They break apart, laughing along with everyone else, wiping away each other's tears so that they can continue.

"You promised," Olivia laughs, giving him a playful shove, wiping carefully beneath her eyes.

Fitz refuses to apologize, keeping her in the circle of his arms. "I don't really remember making any such promise."

Judge Hernandez steps forward again, having moved away during the exchange. "Alright you two, are you ready to sign?"

* * *

That night, Olivia sinks back into the pillows of their bed, flipping through pictures of the day on their digital camera.

Abby's taken some great shots, and she finds herself smiling widely as she scrolls through.

There are plenty of pictures of the kids, running around together, standing _almost_ silently in the courtroom. At one point, she'd captured Micah peeking at her from around the edge of Karen's dress, and Liv makes a mental note to print that one.

The pictures from the ceremony are numerous as well, plenty of mid-laughter photos, several of the two of them mid-signing, pens poised. Her breath catches when she finds one of Fitz whispering his vows to her, another of them laughing, cheeks still wet with tears.

There's a confusing shot of Teddy and Micah _both_ trying to hand their ring boxes to her, Fitz stifling laughter with a hand over his mouth. And then finally, several posed shots with different combinations of family and friends, everyone smiling naturally.

Abby managed to convince them to let her take one photo of them kissing, and she has to admit it's a beautiful shot. She's cupping Fitz's face, wedding band on full display, melting into him as he bends her backward a bit, his arms looped around her waist to hold her close.

Olivia sets the camera down and sighs, running her thumb across her wedding band.

She'd never dreamt about her wedding, but after Fitz, after finding the deepest love she's ever known, she'd dreamt about this feeling.

Feeling safe, feeling like they finally belong to each other in every possible way.

Fitz comes down the hallway carrying Micah, interrupting her train of thought.

"You ready for bed, pumpkin?" she asks as they come into the room.

Micah's in his pajamas, blinking sleepily as he snuggles closer to his dad.

"He's exhausted," Fitz smiles, kissing the top of his head.

"Well, getting married is exhausting when you're three."

"We're gonna go read a story, but we have to give Mommy her present first, right?"

Micah perks up at that, lifting his head from Fitz's shoulder. "There's a peh-sent for you Mommy!"

"What?!" she exclaims, sitting up in bed, "You're kidding!"

"Let's go get it," Fitz stage whispers, carrying him into the walk-in closet.

Olivia waits patiently, smiling as she listens to their conversation.

When they come out with a jewelry box, she shoots Fitz a _look_.

"What did I tell you about jewelry?"

"I know, _no jewelry_. I didn't try to give you an engagement ring did I? But this isn't from _me_ , it's from _Micah_."

"Mommy, it's for _you_."

And how can she _possibly_ say no to that?

"Thank you, baby," she smiles, taking the box from him when he holds it out, sliding closer to them on the bed.

She opens the box and gasps quietly, tracing the delicate necklace with her fingertip. It's a diamond solitaire, just a carat or so, set into a pendant on a dainty gold chain.

"Oh, it's beautiful."

"Mommy its for _you_ ," Micah points excitedly, craning his neck to look inside the box.

"I know, thank you Micah, I _love_ it."

"Do you like it? I would've gone for a bigger diamond, personally, but I thought you'd like this size," Fitz chimes in softly.

"Its perfect, its beautiful, really—"

"Mommy?"

"What?"

"What iss that?" Micah asks, pointing to the necklace, his words halting with curiosity.

Olivia giggles, starting to carefully remove it from it's cushioning. "It's a necklace, buddy. For Mommy to wear."

"Oh. Mommy you're gonna wear it?"

"I'll wear it right now," she says, pulling it from the box and fastening it around her neck.

Fitz bends forward to put his face next to Micah's. "Oh, Mommy looks so pretty in your present, doesn't she?"

"Mommy, I like your face."

The two of them can't help but burst into laughter at Micah's random confession, looking at each other in shock.

"You like my face?" Olivia laughs, leaning close to him, "Where did you hear that?"

Micah reaches out to touch her hair, and then the necklace where it's laying nicely against the top of her silk pajamas. "I don't know. I wanna read the bear book."

When they ask if he's tired he'll never say yes, but when he asks to read books, they know he's ready for bed.

"Okay, are you gonna go read a book with Daddy?"

"Yeah, my Daddy," Micah sighs, shifting against Fitz's chest, hugging little arms around his neck.

He's been going through a phase recently where he _only_ wants Fitz to do bedtime, and it's adorable. If they tell him it's 'Mommy's turn', he'll accept it, but for the past few weeks he's had a major obsession with his daddy, and if they give him the option he'll choose Fitz every time.

It warms her heart to watch Fitz soak it up, to see what an incredible father he is.

"Alright, let's go bud," Fitz sighs, standing up, "Tell Mommy goodnight."

Micah giggles when his dad holds him out Superman-style, puckering his lips to kiss his mom goodnight.

" _Mwah_. I'll see you in the morning, I love you," she murmurs, kissing his cheek, his little lips.

* * *

Not even twenty minutes later, Fitz is back, closing their bedroom door and flicking off the overhead lights.

"Is he out?"

"Oh yeah," he chuckles, stripping down to his boxers, "I think I got through four pages before he passed out."

"Its way past his bedtime, I'm glad he was in such a good mood. Did you check on Teddy?"

"Also out," Fitz sighs, climbing beneath the covers and collapsing onto his back, "Hey, we should get married more often, it really wears our kids out."

He turns onto his side to face her, sliding closer.

They stare at each other for a few seconds, smiling stupidly, until they realize and laugh at themselves a little.

"We got married today."

"Yeah, we did," she murmurs, reaching out to play with his hair.

"Was it—I mean, did you—"

Olivia interrupts him with a soft kiss, pressing her body against his, whispering against his lips. "It was perfect. I loved what you said."

"And you really like the necklace? I know you didn't want anything, but I couldn't _not_ get you something to commemorate—"

"—no, I…I love it, I promise."

Sighing softly, she kisses him again, and again, threading her fingers into his hair, easing her tongue into his mouth.

" _Mmm_ …I wasn't sure if you'd want to, it's been such a long day," he breathes, rubbing his hands over her smooth thighs.

He slips his hands underneath her nightgown and groans, discovering that she's not wearing panties.

"I want to," she whispers, straddling his hips.

Automatically, his hands slide over ass, and when she moans quietly he trails one hand down between her thighs. His fingers slide into her folds, where she's already slick, so wet for him.

" _Livvie_ ," he admonishes playfully, "Did you start without me?"

"Well, we did a lot of kissing today," she murmurs, leaning in close, "And I was lying here thinking about how you're my _husband_ now—"

He growls softly, rocking his hips up against her. "Say that again."

"My _husband_. God, we're such a cliché, and I love it," Liv giggles breathlessly, sitting up to pull her nightgown off.

His smile disappears and his eyes darken at the sight of her completely bare, hands sliding up to cup her breasts.

"I have the _hottest_ wife on the planet."

"You're a lucky man," she murmurs cheekily, lying down on top of him, kissing him slowly.

She pulls back, and the look in his eyes takes her breath away.

"The _luckiest_."

* * *

 **A/N: So. Much. Fun. I loved writing this, I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you thought!**


	29. Safe

**A/N: This is a 5x04 post-ep, because that little bit of their reunion at the very end was nowhere near enough ;-)**

* * *

Olivia doesn't need to be protected, or saved.

But as soon as she's in his presence she can't help but feel a sense of calm.

It's not because he's a man, and it's not because there are multiple secret service agents surreptitiously surrounding them as they eat a late dinner.

It's because he's _her_ man.

Her Fitz.

Her home.

The restaurant is closed and they're eating in a corner booth, hidden from prying eyes. They'll have more public dates later, she knows, but tonight they're tucked away together as they sip wine and share rich steak, smooth, whipped potatoes, and crisp Caesar salad.

It's the most fun they've had in a long time.

She lets him tease her, and tell her corny jokes that make her giggle. She drinks a little too much and lets herself relax, lets his hand wander beneath her long sweater to rest on her thigh, thumb tracing delicate circles that make her warm and tingly.

After they've finished eating, she's nursing the last few sips of her wine, head resting on his shoulder.

"Thank you for this," Liv says quietly, tipping her chin up, looking at him sincerely, "Thanks for coming to get me."

Fitz tenderly brushes the back of his index finger down the bridge of her nose. "I've never apologized for loving you, and I'm not going to start now. I never should have let you sit in your apartment alone for as long as I did—"

"—it was my choice to do that," she interrupts, absently swirling her wine, nudging closer into his side.

"I know," he says gently, "But I knew you were hurting. I was too."

Her silence, and the way she tips her head back against him speaks for itself.

Tipping her chin up again, she sets her glass down and smiles warmly. "Well, we're here now."

Drawing him into a slow kiss, she sighs happily, cupping the back of his neck with her left hand, fingers rubbing through his soft curls. Fitz pulls her closer, as close as he can without actually lifting her into his lap, his breath catching when her other hand slips under his shirt.

"Do you want me to take you home?"

She shakes her head. "Mmm-mmm. Take me to the White House, Mr. President."

Fitz grins at her playful tone, her use of his favorite nickname. "All of those reporters are gonna know you didn't come home."

"I don't care," she whispers against his open lips, "I don't care about them. They're going to be standing outside in the cold all night, waiting for me, like idiots, and I'm going to be elsewhere, having _amazing_ sex."

He laughs and groans simultaneously, leaning in to murmur against her ear. "I missed you. It's only been a few days, but—"

His voice is making her wet, making heat swirl low in her belly, and she just _wants_ him.

"—too long, it's always too long," she whines, kissing him with a little more urgency.

Eventually, Fitz ushers her out of the booth, and secret service ushers _both_ of them back into the car.

He keeps her close as they meander through the White House hallways toward the Residence, leaning in to nuzzle her ear every so often, fighting the urge to slide his hand down to squeeze her ass.

"Come here," he murmurs when they're finally in the elevator, pressing her back against the wall.

He's _everywhere_ , his hands untying her sweater to slide underneath it, his scent in her nose, his tongue in her mouth, his erection against her stomach, and suddenly she's completely overwhelmed with love for him. She's overwhelmed by how safe he makes her feel, with his ability to know what she needs, what she _really_ needs. She hadn't realized how badly she's needed him lately until he'd shown up, whisking her away from it all, unashamed.

He's _shown up_ for her tonight.

He's showing her how much he loves her, and it makes her chest tighten with emotion as she kisses him fiercely. Olivia knows that he loves her, she _knows_ that, but when he shows her so unabashedly…it's almost too much to wrap her mind around.

The doors open and they carefully navigate their way out, tongues still intertwined, walking somewhat awkwardly toward the bedroom. They bump into another wall, and Liv moans quietly as he presses her into it and starts to kiss her neck. His hands have worked their way underneath her tank top, his mouth is making her core throb, and he smells so good, and she just loves him _so much_ —

"Hey, hey…"

She doesn't realize she's getting choked up until he pulls away in concern, holding her face between his palms, breathing hard as he looks into her glassy eyes.

"What?" he asks softly, rubbing his thumb over her lips, blue eyes hazy with desire and concern.

Olivia shakes her head, wrapping her arms around his back to pull him against her, blinking her tears away.

"I'm fine, I…"

Pausing to breath, she rubs her hands over his back, tipping her forehead to rest against his.

"I love you."

She doesn't say it often, and his breath catches every time she does, but when she says it like that?

Soft, warm, and so _sure_ …

Fitz presses into her, kissing her slowly, thoroughly, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth.

" _Love you so much…_ "

Sliding his hands around her ass he picks her up, catching her gasp in his mouth as she wraps her legs around his hips. He's thick and hard between her thighs, and it makes her whimper and grind her clit against him, completely unashamed of how badly she needs him.

They make much quicker progress toward the bedroom this way, and it's much easier for her to drive him crazy when she's not walking backward.

"Livvie, if you don't stop that I'm gonna drop you," he groans, hands squeezing the supple flesh of her bottom.

Olivia smiles around his earlobe, flicking her tongue over it, sucking gently while her fingers tease his other ear. "No, you won't."

He growls, dropping her on the edge of the bed and immediately working to get her naked from the waist down.

" _Fuck_ ," she whimpers, all the breath rushing from her chest when he drops to his knees, when his mouth finds her core.

His tongue feels too good, so good that she's backing away involuntarily, whimpering as his hands palm her bare hips, pulling her back to him and holding her there. The first few moments are always intense when he just _goes_ for it like that, when he doesn't tease, when he unapologetically launches an attack with his mouth.

Both of her hands tangle in his hair, thighs trembling as she squirms into the firm, wet pressure. He moves with her, lets her writhe and arch her back, flicking his eyes up every so often to watch her pant helplessly.

" _Fitz…Fitz…right—oh…_ "

And that's when she knows tonight is going to be one of _those_ nights. He's going to make her fall apart tonight, he's going to devastate her in the best way possible, and she's going to let him.

He makes her come, an orgasm that pulses through her in waves that seem to go on forever. Her mouth stretches open in a silent scream, brow furrowed, hands pulling at his hair, panting and whimpering as he works her over.

" _Oh my god…oh…_ baby, come up here _._ "

"Mmm…you sure?" he teases, lips rubbing over her clit as he talks, "I think you can—"

Fitz grunts when she tugs on his hair, so abrupt with the movement that he nearly falls on her with all of his weight.

"I want you inside of me," she whispers, cradling his face, drawing his bottom lip between her teeth, " _Now_."

He grins against her mouth, sliding his hands underneath her tank top to pull it off.

"So _demanding_ tonight," he murmurs, removing her bra, teasing her nipples, "Turn over, pretty girl."

His eyes darken when she crawls forward on the bed, stretching her arms up around a pillow, making herself comfortable on her stomach. She waits while he strips his clothes off, moaning softly as he rubs his hands over her ass, up her back, delighting in the softness of her skin.

" _So fucking beautiful…_ "

And then he's nudging her thighs up a little bit, dropping onto his forearms and clasping her hands, groaning low in his chest as he presses inside her.

" _Baby…_ "

He nuzzles the hair away from her neck, her cheek, until she turns her face toward him for a few soft kisses.

And then he starts to rock his hips against her, slow and steady.

Her back curls and she presses her forehead into the pillow, moaning, squeezing his hands.

" _Don't stop_ ," she pants softly, " _Don't ever stop_ …"

 _Safe_.

" _I need…I can't…_ "

The mounting pressure is too heavy, too much, too good.

" _No_ ," he breathes quietly, his voice raspy and soft, " _Shh…_ "

It's meant to be soothing but it's erotic, unbelievably arousing. Her clit throbs harder, and her muscles clench around him, involuntarily. Fitz gasps, cock twitching inside her as he stills for a moment, picking up his rhythm again after he's gotten himself under control.

She's warm, flushed, shaking, tingling with pleasure that fans across her hips, settles heavy and throbbing between her thighs. Her mind is blissfully empty, her vision blurred and littered with bright spots. The only tangible things are his smell, _their_ smell, the stretch and pressure of his erection, his breath against her neck, his groans as he thrusts inside of her, slowly, for endless minutes.

She doesn't come until he wants her to, until he moves in just the right way. And then she's falling, _finally_ , breathing hard, nails digging into his palms hard enough to leave marks. He yanks his hands from her grip when he comes inside her with a shout, holding her hips, hugging his arms around her.

 _Safe_.

He spreads the blankets over them and pulls her against his chest, holding her the way she'll never admit that she loves, that she _needs_.

"That was the best first date ever," she mumbles, drifting off.

He smiles.

* * *

 **A/N: This was another fun one to write! Let me know what you thought!**


	30. The Firsts: Christmas Edition

**A/N: My holiday gift to you guys, my AMAZING readers! This was originally supposed to be longer, but I got busy with family...I ended up deciding to post it anyway after iWrite told me "Maybe it's just supposed to be what it is!". So, here it is!**

* * *

 **The First Christmas –** _ **6 Months Old**_

 _ **December 1**_ _ **st**_ _ **, 6am**_

"Good morning," Fitz says softly, walking over to Micah's crib.

He's not crying, just fussing as he gets increasingly bored and hungry, protesting the fact that no one has appeared to free him yet. The appearance of his daddy takes care of one immediate issue, but not the other.

"Hi…hi buddy, shh," Fitz soothes, lifting him from the crib, cuddling him against his chest, "Did you have a good sleep? Hmm? I know, I'm not your favorite person to see this early in the morning, but I think we should let Mommy sleep a little bit longer. She's been working too hard lately."

Micah settles for the time being, comforted by Fitz's warmth and the deep, soothing sound of his voice, although he knows it won't last too long.

Olivia works hard to preserve her time with Micah, and she's always, _always_ , home to breastfeed first thing in the morning, and right before bed. Even though he takes bottles the rest of the day, his mom is a constant for him at least twice a day, something that's incredibly important to her.

Still, Fitz knows she won't mind a little extra sleep. This week, she's been coming home to put their son down and then going _back_ to work, a huge case taking up extra time. Last night she'd come home around two in the morning and collapsed into bed, mumbling something about it finally being over, and he's glad for it.

"I want to show you something. Look!" Fitz announces, pulling the blinds open.

Micah blinks his big brown eyes against the light and furrows his brow in confusion.

"Do you see that? That's snow! You've never seen snow before, huh? We are gonna play in it today, I can't wait. You're going to love it."

The baby doesn't look so convinced, squinting against the bright white landscape.

"Alright, maybe we'll find your sunglasses, and _then_ we'll play in the snow. You're stinky, let's get a clean diaper."

One clean diaper, three rounds of peek-a-boo, and two books later, Fitz can tell he's run out of options. Micah is officially _hungry_ , and he's making his displeasure crystal clear.

"Well we gave Mommy an extra half hour, I guess that's pretty good. Let's go see her, I know, I know, okay, hold your horses, buddy."

Micah stops complaining as soon as they leave his room, distracted by their walk down the hallway and into the bedroom.

Olivia is completely passed out in the darkened room, curled up underneath the comforter. He almost feels bad waking her, but he knows there will be hell to pay if he lets her miss their morning feeding.

"Livvie," he whispers, rubbing her shoulder, "Got a hungry little man here, Liv. Liv?"

She doesn't even stir until Micah squawks impatiently, completely deaf to Fitz's voice but instantly in tune with her son's needs. Groaning softly, she turns over, feeling around with one hand as if she expects Micah to be in bed with her already.

"Mmm…boobs…gonna explode…gimme…"

She's half-asleep, struggling with the buttons on her silk pajamas clumsily, so he reaches down and unfastens the first few for her, chuckling under his breath. As soon as he lays Micah next to her she's on autopilot, pulling her breast out and nudging him into position until he latches comfortably, both of them lying on their sides. She snuggles his little body against hers and sighs, bending to press a kiss into his curls.

"Morning, pumpkin," she murmurs quietly, eyes still closed.

Fitz smiles, watching them settle down together. He grabs his laptop and climbs back into bed, tackling his overflowing inbox, listening to Micah's soft, contented eating noises.

It doesn't take him long to eat the first half of his breakfast, and Fitz glances down as he rolls away from Olivia, who seems to have fallen asleep again.

He picks Micah up from the mattress, sitting him up and rubbing his back. "Got a burp in there? Yeah, Daddy's computer is fun, huh. Here, you wanna send your sister an e-mail?"

Micah bangs happily against the keys for a few minutes, eyes wide with excitement, until he lets out an enormous burp and realizes he's still hungry. Fitz types a quick message to accompany the gibberish, smiling to himself, and sends the email off to Karen, knowing she'll get a kick out of it.

"Still hungry, bud?" Fitz asks, closing his laptop as Micah squirms around in his arms, making noises of discontent.

Olivia stirs, stretching and mumbling into her pillow. "Does he want the other side?"

"He definitely does," Fitz answers, watching in amusement as she yawns spectacularly and drags her eyes open.

"Okay, I'm up. I'm awake. I'm a mess, geez," she comments, looking down to find herself completely exposed, leaking from the side that hasn't been drained yet, "I don't know how you keep your hands off of me, honestly, I'm such a ravishing creature these days."

He raises his eyebrows. "Since when do I keep my hands off of you?"

"You know what I mean," she laughs, smiling through another yawn, propping herself up against the pillows.

Fitz passes Micah back to her after she rearranges herself, reaching for him.

"Hi, baby. Look at your hair today, oh my gosh."

"That winter static is really hitting him hard," Fitz chuckles, pulling his laptop back over.

"Good morning," she coos, rubbing Micah's back as he starts to eat again, "I missed you. But guess what, Mommy's not going to work today."

"You're not?"

"No way. They can handle that mountain of paperwork without me, I'll sign everything later. I worked all weekend, I want to hang with my guys today," Liv smiles, trying to smooth out Micah's unruly curls.

"Well, that is perfect, actually, because the Christmas tree is coming today."

"Already?" she yawns, "You _just_ made us do the whole thing with the turkey handprints, and the pinecone turkeys—"

"Liv, Christmas comes after Thanksgiving, that's the next holiday. Celebrating holidays is _normal_."

"For you, maybe."

"You like Christmas!"

"I do like Christmas, I'm just…tired," she admits, laughing at herself.

"Which is why the tree is coming to us. They'll drag it in here and put it up, all we have to do is decorate it."

"We have to _decorate_ it?"

"Oh come on, its gonna be fun. His little face when we light the tree up for the first time?"

Olivia considers this for a moment, a smile creeping across her face. "I guess that will be pretty cute. He'll probably love it."

"Right? And he's going to love the snow too."

"You can't take him out in the snow."

"Why?"

"Because he's a _baby_ ," she says incredulously, looking at him like he's gone insane, "He'll get too cold."

"Which is why I bought him that snowsuit, so he won't get cold."

"I thought that was just for general winter outings!"

"Well, it's for that too, but it'll keep him warm while we try sledding."

"Sledding?! He just learned how to hold his head up!"

"Shh, trust me, it's fine."

* * *

 _ **1pm...**_

"Fitz, I need more on this side, I can't—"

"Wait a minute, let me grab another package—shit, can you grab that end?"

"I'm all the way over here, I can't even see what you're talking about."

"Should we have tested these to make sure they work, first? I think you're supposed to."

"Great, now that we've got half the lights on you remember."

"Listen, cranky-pants, I've done this about as many times as you have, which I'm guessing is close to zero."

"I'm sorry," Olivia laughs, "I told you, I really need a nap. Micah gets to take one, why don't I?"

Fitz stops what he's doing and sighs, walking around to the back of the tree where she's standing on a stepladder.

She looks at him petulantly, hands on her hips.

He smiles and concedes, walking over to lift her off the ladder, holding her against him for a moment.

"I'm just excited," he shrugs, "It's our first Christmas in our house, and it's Micah's first Christmas ever, I'm just…excited."

Olivia leans down and cups his face, kissing him softly. "I _love_ how excited you are, you're adorable. And I'm gonna be excited with you, but I promise I'll be much _more_ excited if you let me take a nap before we finish this."

"Fine," he concedes, setting her down, giving her another kiss, "But when you wake up—"

"Rockin' around the Christmas tree, baby, we're all over it," she calls over her shoulder, already heading up the stairs.

* * *

 _ **6:30pm…**_

Micah is _determined_.

There's a toy just out of his reach and he's on his hands and knees, rocking back and forth.

"Are you gonna get it? Yeah? C'mon, you've got it," Liv encourages, lying on her stomach across from him on the living room rug.

He smiles adorably when she gets on his level, and it makes her laugh.

"Hi! Hey you, gorgeous boy. Come here! Come on, come get it."

His eyes are sparkling, and she can see the concentration on his little face as he tries to work out how to get to the toy in question.

"Oh man, he is _so close_ already," Fitz comments, coming back from the kitchen with two glasses of wine.

"He wants to do it so bad, he just can't quite figure it out."

Micah flops onto his belly in frustration, half-crying and half-yelling.

"That's okay, peanut," Olivia soothes, crawling forward to rub his back, "You'll do it soon."

She hands him the little stuffed fox he'd been eyeing and he quiets, rolling onto his back and happily stuffing it into his mouth.

"Not too soon though. Once he starts moving our lives will never be the same," Fitz jokes, handing her one of the glasses.

"I like watching him figure things out. It's amazing. I'm surprised he hasn't been looking at the tree."

If Micah is at all concerned about the appearance of a giant tree in the living room, he hasn't shown it.

"Well, hopefully he will as soon as we turn the lights on. Oh, we should turn the rest of the lights off before we show him," Fitz announces, setting his wine down and disappearing down the hallway.

"Listen, kid," Olivia murmurs, leaning in close to Micah, "Your dad is _very_ excited about this, so it would be really helpful if you could give us a great reaction, okay? No pressure, I'm just saying, big eyes would be good, maybe a little shriek, something like that."

Fitz re-appears, switching off the last table lamp, plunging them into near-complete darkness. "Okay. Are we ready?"

"Umm, well, I don't think he can really see from here, hang on," Olivia says scooping Micah up and standing, "Okay Daddy, we're ready. Micah, where's Daddy? Look!"

"One, two, three!"

The tree lights up and Micah's eyes immediately get big and round.

"Yay!" Liv cheers softly, bouncing him in her arms, "What do you think, pumpkin?"

He blinks in wonder a few times, taking it all in, and then he flaps his arms, wiggling and shrieking.

"I _knew_ he would love it," Fitz says, grinning from ear-to-ear.

* * *

 **A/N: THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, to every single person who reads my stories. Writing brings me so much joy and I love being a part of this community. I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday, however you choose to celebrate, and I will see you guys in 2017!**


	31. The Firsts: New Year's Eve

**A/N: A little NYE ficlet that I wrote today...**

* * *

 **The First New Year's Eve - 6 Months Old**

 _December 31st, 11:45pm…_

"I can't believe we made it to midnight."

They're only taking up one arm of the spacious, U-shaped sectional in their living room. Fitz is stretched out comfortably across the cushions and she's curled into the crook of his arm, tucked against his chest.

"To be fair, we did take a nap."

"Shh…let me at least pretend we're not old yet," Liv shushes, pressing her fingers against his mouth for a moment.

He chuckles, taking another sip of champagne, glancing down at her. She's not watching him, focused instead on the television, on the shots of excited, intoxicated people in Times Square.

Feeling his eyes on her, she looks up at him, smiling softly. "What?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking about last year."

She hums in agreement, laughing quietly. "I was, what, four months pregnant? And we had that huge fight before the White House party—"

"—and ended up almost _not_ kissing at midnight. Good memories…"

"Hey, you were being a jerk. We were still trying to hide the baby bump, and I was still a nervous wreck seventy-five percent of the time."

"Calling you a head case was not my best moment, I'll give you that," Fitz laughs, "But that was the angriest New Year's Eve kiss I've ever gotten. You bit me, and not in a good way."

"I was mad at you for looking so good in that tux. I didn't even really want to kiss you, but my hormones had other ideas," she sighs, taking a sip of her champagne.

He squeezes his arm around her. "Well, we'll have to make up for it this year. Ten more minutes. Micah's sleeping through his first New Year's, should we go get him?"

"If you wake that baby up, I will murder you," Liv threatens, "All it takes is one break in routine to mess up this 'sleeping through the night' thing we've got going on."

"I was kidding, relax. I like sleep just as much as you do."

They're quiet for a few minutes, watching the festivities from their dark, quiet living room.

Olivia sighs, hugging closer to him. "This has been nice. We haven't had a few hours to ourselves like this in a while. We're usually asleep by now."

"Mmm," he agrees, leaning down to press a kiss into her hair, "I like talking to you."

She laughs, glancing up at him. "I like talking to you too."

"You know, we should think about maybe having a date night every now and then. Just the two of us? Hmm?"

"I know," she murmurs, letting him take her empty glass and set it on the end table, "I haven't been ready to leave him with a sitter yet but maybe…I think it might be okay, now that he's a little older. Just for a few hours, if Abby can watch him, and we schedule extra secret service detail on the house."

"Whatever you need," Fitz chuckles, "Oh, here we go, ten…nine— _hi_ …"

She's climbed over him, smiling as she straddles his lap. "Just getting ready. We have to make up for last year, after all."

When the ball drops and confetti explodes, they don't hear it because they're already kissing, slow and sweet.

Olivia cradles his face between her palms, fitting her mouth over his, sucking on his bottom lip. She smiles at his soft moan, parting her lips to let his tongue in to tangle with hers.

" _Happy New Year, baby_."

* * *

 **A/N: Happy New Year! I wasn't planning on writing today but this just came out so I went with it. Hope you enjoyed :-)**


	32. The Firsts: Parenting Solo, Part I

**A/N: Hi guys! So, to be honest, December was a really tough month for me personally. I had a few things going on, and I just wasn't in a place to write anything other than fluff. Some of that spilled over into January, thus I have another installment of The Firsts for you! I've gotten some questions about The Right Kind of Madness, and I PROMISE it's not abandoned. I'm starting to work on it again, but I hope you will be patient with me as I find that muse. In the meantime, I really liked the idea of Olivia talking to Micah before he could talk back, so this came out. There will also be a part II with Fitz's first time parenting solo :-)**

* * *

 _The First Time Parenting Solo, Mommy Edition – 7 Weeks Old_

 _ **Thursday, 8:30pm…**_

"You're going to be fine."

Olivia immediately stops chewing at her thumbnail, glancing over to where he's packing his suitcase.

"I know. I'm not worried," she shrugs, absently picking at the comforter.

He stops what he's doing and walks over to sit on the bed in front of her, waiting patiently until she looks up at him again.

After a moment, she acquiesces under his knowing stare, her expression softening. "I mean, I'm a little nervous."

"That's normal, Liv."

"I don't know why. It's not like I've never taken care of him by myself before. I've been his mom for seven weeks, I know him, I know what he needs—"

"—absolutely."

"—but I've never been by myself with him for a whole weekend," she sighs, reaching over into the bassinette beside the bed, letting Micah curl his tiny hand around her finger while he sleeps.

Fitz smiles, watching her gaze at their son.

"Liv, no one is more in tune with him than you. You're an amazing mom to him, he couldn't be in better hands. What are you most worried about?"

She takes a deep breath, carefully pulling her finger away. "Lack of sleep."

He chuckles, standing up to finish packing. "Just sleep whenever he sleeps, and call Abby if you need a break."

"It's fine," she decides, lying back on the bed, "We'll be fine."

* * *

 _ **Friday, 9am…**_

Yawning widely, Olivia sinks onto the couch and props her feet against the ottoman, settling Micah against her bent knees. She watches him blink slowly, brown eyes moving around the room until they land on her face.

"Hi," she coos softly, stroking over his tiny, onesie-clad body, taking his hands, "Hi, pumpkin. We're having a little bit of a camp-out this weekend, huh? Just Mommy and Micah. Just me and you, little mister. Daddy left us to go schmooze some donors for his foundation. Actually, I think we got the better end of the deal because we get to snuggle all weekend. I don't have to share you, Mommy gets all the snuggles."

Micah is content, looking around and listening to the sound of her voice, wiggling happily.

"I wish we could go for a walk around the neighborhood or something. But somebody might recognize us and I don't know if I'm ready for all that, not without your Daddy here anyway. Hal and Ben would keep us safe, but, I think we'll probably just stay here. I'm okay with that, are you okay with that?"

He regards her carefully, drawing his legs up and then stretching them back out again.

"Normally, I wouldn't think twice about doing whatever I want," she continues, smoothing his short, fine curls, swaying her knees back and forth absently, "I don't want you to think I'm not independent, because I am."

 _As if my 7 week-old is judging me._

She laughs quietly at herself, running the back of her finger over his tiny nose, watching his eyes blink at the sensation.

"Mommy just wants to keep you safe, always. I don't want any strangers trying to take pictures of you yet, you're too little. So, if that means we have to be hermits for a little while, that's what we'll do. And you don't care, do you? As long as you have a nice warm sleeper on, and milk to drink, and someone to cuddle you, you're a happy boy. Right?"

* * *

 _ **Friday, 1:30pm…**_

She stands in the middle of the bathroom, staring at the shower.

 _How am I supposed to do this? There's no one here to watch him._

Glancing down at the sleeping baby in her arms, she bites her lip, looking around as if the answer will magically appear out of thin air.

 _File this under, 'Things I Hadn't Thought About'. I mean, he's asleep…I could just lay him in the bassinette. But will I hear him if he cries? He'd be kind of far away…and I need at least ten minutes._

She dismisses that idea, deciding she needs him in the bathroom with her.

 _I need to be able to see him. I could just lay him on some towels…but what if he wakes up and rolls off? He's not rolling yet, but what if he starts at this exact moment?_

Out of ideas, Liv heads down the hallway into one of their spare bedrooms, where they've been storing baby gear that they haven't used yet. Eyeing the various boxes, she spots a baby seat that he's been too small to use so far.

 _Ten pounds and up…he's almost eleven pounds now, he might be able to use this. It says it's technically a "bouncer" but there's no reason he can't just sleep in it._

She nudges the box down the hallway and into the bedroom with her foot, transferring Micah into his bassinette so she can open it. It looks comfy enough, like it will cradle him securely while he sleeps.

 _This should work. I'll just put it right here on the bathroom floor, and then I can peek out at him._

"Do you want to try this little seat, peanut?" she asks softly, carefully scooping him up and carrying him into the bathroom.

Placing him into the seat, she holds her breath while he grunts and squeaks in his sleep, shifting around as he settles down again.

"There. That looks pretty good. Okay, don't move, I'll be quick."

* * *

 _ **Friday, 7pm…**_

"Okay, shh, shh. I know, seven o'clock is a terrible time of day, it's just the worst, isn't it? Hang on, baby, Mommy needs to get some water before we sit down."

Micah's been having a hard time in the evenings, fussy, cluster-feeding for several hours, and she knows she'll need some provisions before they settle into the rocker.

"Do I have time to make popcorn? Hmm? What do you think? Daddy's not here, otherwise he would help me. So, we're going to have to figure this out."

She's just fed him but he's already fussy again, whimpering and complaining. Switching her hold on him, she props him against her shoulder so that he can nuzzle into her neck, swaying gently, and that calms him for the time being. Of course, this puts his wobbly little neck in a much more vulnerable position, and she realizes using the air popper one-handed is potentially problematic.

"Can Mommy put you down for a second?"

As soon as she attempts to lay him into the baby seat resting on the kitchen table, his face scrunches up and he wails pitifully.

"Okay, no on that, I'm sorry, come here. Bag of popcorn it is, no problem."

She retrieves a bag of popcorn from the pantry, bouncing him as she crosses to the microwave.

"Alright? You're okay. I know, it's tough to be a baby sometimes. You don't know whether you're coming or going."

The noise of the microwave seems to soothe him somewhat, and his eyes drift closed for a few seconds at a time. It doesn't last though, and by the time the popcorn's finished he's awake and fussing again, turning his head into her chest.

Eventually, Micah's rocking chair will make it's way into the nursery, but while he's still sleeping next to their bed, it's in the master bedroom for easy access.

It takes her a couple of trips, bouncing and shushing all the while, to transfer her supplies up to their bedroom. Popcorn, water, the remote, and her phone all go next to her basket of nursing supplies, and she finally settles down into the chair.

"Shh, shh, shh, I know," she murmurs, immediately offering him her breast.

He suckles greedily, as if he hasn't eaten in hours instead of just twenty minutes. But, as expected, he pulls away after a few minutes, fussing until she lifts him to her shoulder again.

"Oh, it's not so terrible is it?" she coos, rubbing his back and then patting firmly, "Do you have a bubble in your tummy? Hmm?"

She coaxes a burp out of him eventually, and he finally quiets enough that she decides to lay him against her thighs.

"There," she sighs, munching a few pieces of popcorn, "How about if we do this for a while? You seem to really like looking at us nowadays, I think this helps."

It does help…for about five minutes.

Laughing a little at his pouty face, she scoops him up again. "Oh no, what happened? You know, if I didn't have your number, you'd be driving me crazy, buddy. But I know, you just don't know what you want sometimes, huh? Come here, shh."

They cycle through her bag of tricks for the next hour, feeding, rocking, shushing, swaying, rinse and repeat, until he starts to _really_ cry and she decides he's just tired. Her phone buzzes with a text just as she's getting ready to swaddle him.

 _Fitz_ : FaceTime?

She cradles Micah in one arm so that she can text back, rocking vigorously.

 _Livvie_ : Not a good time, he's doing the fussy thing. Call you later.

His reply comes quickly.

 _Fitz_ : Sorry :-( Hang in there!

Sighing, she stands up and spreads a swaddle blanket across the bed, bouncing her crying baby all the while. As soon as she lays him down the pitch of his cry heightens, and she has to push away her panic. She _still_ gets a little panicked when he cries like this, but she forces herself to relax and take a deep breath, remembering what Fitz has told her over and over.

 _He's fine. He's not hungry, he's not warm, he burped, he's been pooping. He's just tired, and the only way he knows to tell me he's tired is crying. He needs to sleep, he just needs me to help him, he doesn't know how to do it by himself yet. He will stop crying, he_ _ **will**_ _stop crying…_

"Okay, I know baby. You're alright, I know you're tired."

She gets him swaddled tightly and lifts him back into her arms, holding him upright against her chest.

"I've got you, shh, shh."

Unwrapping the collar of her nursing top, she makes sure that he's lying directly against her skin and starts to pace, down the hallway and back into the bedroom. Back and forth, back and forth…

Eventually, _finally_ , after what feels like ten _hours_ but, in reality, is probably ten _minutes_ , his cries taper off. She takes another deep breath, wandering back into the bedroom to sit in the rocker, knowing that the motion will soothe his whimpers and lull him into sleep.

"There we go," she whispers, gently kissing his head, "My goodness. Mommy doesn't like it when you cry like that, it makes me want to cry too. That swaddle is good stuff, huh?"

As she rocks him he quiets, a warm, limp little bundle in her arms. Glancing down, she watches his eyes flutter and close, his lips parting in relaxation, cheek against her chest. Every time he falls asleep on her like this, she forgets all about the crying. She cuddles him, kissing his head again, rubbing gently over his back.

She yawns, carefully reaching for her phone, smiling sleepily as she snaps a quick selfie of the two of them for Fitz.

 _Livvie_ : Too tired to talk. Goodnight, Daddy, we miss you :-)

* * *

 _ **Friday, 11:30pm…**_

"That was a pretty long stretch, Mommy even slept a little bit too. You're hungry, I know, here you go, buddy."

* * *

 _ **Saturday, 2:40am…**_

"Shh, shh, shh…I'm right here."

 _I think he last ate on the right, I need to give him the left…_

* * *

 _ **Saturday, 5:20am…**_

 _One more night by myself, I can do this. I don't really have a choice, but, I can do this…_

* * *

 _ **Sunday, 7am…**_

Doing everything by herself is _hard_ , and by Sunday morning, after two nights, she's exhausted.

She finishes nursing Micah and lays him down in the center of the bed, curling up on her side to watch him wiggle around.

"Mr. Wiggles…look at you go this morning. How come you're so awake? I don't feel awake."

He turns his head toward the sound of her voice and coos, stretching out like a starfish, balling up like a hedgehog.

"Hi, baby. You're awfully cute, do you know that?"

He coos again and she giggles, rubbing his belly.

"Oh, you do? You're so cute that I can almost forget how tired I am. Almost."

Olivia watches him for a few more minutes, echoing some of the soft sounds he's making. The sounds are new, she realizes, and for the millionth time she finds herself in awe of how fast he's learning and changing.

"Do you want to know something? I haven't thought about work even once these past couple of days. You've taken up all of my attention. If someone had told me five years ago, even _two_ years ago, that I would be lying here with you I would have told them they were crazy. If someone had tried to explain to me how much I would love being your mom, I wouldn't have been able to imagine it."

She leans in to nuzzle his neck, kissing his cheek.

* * *

 _ **Sunday, 3:30pm…**_

Olivia blinks her eyes open and panics immediately.

 _What time is it? Where's Micah?_

She sits up on the couch, disoriented, looking at the empty baby swing where she could swear her son had been sleeping.

Thankfully, within seconds, Fitz walks out of the kitchen and into the living room, in the process of giving Micah a bottle.

"Oh my god," she breathes, putting a hand over her chest, "You scared the shit out of me."

He chuckles, sitting down next to her. "I'm sorry, I didn't even think about that. I saw him waking up and grabbed him before he could cry. Hi."

"Hi," she murmurs, leaning in to kiss him a few times, "How's he doing with the bottle?"

Fitz shrugs. "He's spit it out a couple times but, not bad, he's about halfway done."

On cue, Micah pulls away from the bottle, fussing, refusing to take it back.

"Oops. I shouldn't have let him hear my voice."

"He does tend to do better when you aren't around," Fitz smiles, "Here, it's not really fair to make him finish this when you're right there."

She takes the baby and cradles him close, unclipping her nursing top so that he can finish his meal. He latches eagerly, taking quick breaths through his nose as he starts to eat.

"He'll get it…won't you, pumpkin? You're just used to Mommy, bottles are weird. But when I go back to work, you'll figure it out."

"He'll have to, we won't have a choice," Fitz teases, stroking Micah's head affectionately, leaning down to kiss him, "I missed you guys. And he did so well, see? You don't even need me."

Her eyes widen, looking at him incredulously. "Oh, we need you. I'd die from sleep deprivation eventually."

Fitz laughs again, leaning in to kiss her. "I'll take the 3am feeding tonight, I promise. He's been doing great with the bottle in the middle of the night, as long as I come down here to feed him."

"You know, it really wasn't that bad," she murmurs, brushing her finger across Micah's cheek, "We were a good little team, huh?"

Micah sighs contentedly, as if he's agreeing with her, reaching up to rest a little hand against her chest.

* * *

 **A/N: Lots of baby talk and cuteness. Hope you guys liked it!**


	33. Cincinnati

**A/N: I had most of this written before 6x01, so it's not really a commentary on the episode. It takes place between the season 5 finale, and the beginning of S6...I had to get a little creative to make this scenario happen, so just go with me on it :-P**

* * *

 _August 2_ _nd_ _, 2016_

 **Cincinnati, OH**

"Ms. Whelan, there's a problem."

Abby's assistant comes back from the check-in desk, wringing her hands.

"What's wrong?" Abby frowns, turning away from the small group of people.

It's nearly ten at night, they've been traveling all day long, and the last thing anyone wants to hear is that there's a problem.

Valerie fidgets uncomfortably, glancing between Abby and the array of people standing in the group behind her, those of which include multiple secret service agents, Olivia Pope, the former First Lady, and the President of the United States.

Lowering her voice, she leans in. "They've, um, they've put Ms. Pope and The President in the same suite."

"What?" Abby hisses, eyes widening, "How did that happen?"

"I don't know," Valerie squeaks, looking distraught, "I have no idea how it happened. There've been so many campaign stops, I swear everything was double checked. But—"

"—the security protocol, I know. We based the whole thing off of the room reservations, how the _hell_ did this happen? We've had this finished for _months_ —"

"Abby? What's going on?"

Abby jumps as Olivia appears beside her. "Uh, we've—there's been a mix-up with the room assignments."

"Oh, don't tell me they gave Mellie and I one room," she sighs, shifting her bag to the opposite arm.

"No, not exactly. We—well, they—there was a—"

"Spit it out, Abby," Olivia interrupts impatiently, massaging her temples.

"They put you and the President in the same suite."

Liv's head snaps up, her eyes wide. " _What?_ "

"I have no idea how this happened, how someone didn't catch it, Liv, I'm so sorry."

Taking a deep breath, Olivia immediately squares her shoulders, prepared to Fix. "It's fine, I'll stay with you instead. We've shared hotel rooms before."

"We can't," Abby explains gently, glancing at Valerie awkwardly, "There are protocols in place, specific security protocols—"

"—the entire floor is locked down, what do you mean?"

Abby sighs, taking Liv by the arm and pulling her to the side, mindful that the rest of the group is growing impatient. "Look, there are—you and I are not the same, in the eyes of the secret service. Our risk assessments are different."

Understanding slowly dawns in Olivia's eyes and she nods, crossing her arms. "Right."

"The two of you were—they know your history. And attempts have been made on your life," Abby says softly, "That changes things. When you're a private citizen, that's one thing. But when you're with us? When you're traveling with him?"

"I have a higher risk assessment."

Abby nods, sympathetic to the quiet pain in her friend's eyes as they stare at each other for a moment.

"Steps have already been taken," Abby continues, "The way the rooms have been prepped, secured, which agents are stationed outside which doors, even if we could make other arrangements for you— _your_ assessment is basically _his_ assessment, by the time—"

"—okay I get it, I get it, stop panicking."

"What's the issue?" Fitz interrupts, coming into the group, clearly exasperated and tired of making small talk with his ex-wife.

"We have to share a room."

Everyone turns to stare at Olivia, shocked that she's stated it so bluntly.

"Okay," Fitz says slowly, staring at her with his eyebrows raised, "Because…?"

Abby steps in. "Security mishap, sir. The hotel messed up the room assignments, and secret service didn't catch it before everything was prepared, and—"

"Right," he nods quietly, understanding the ins and outs of Olivia's security needs better than she does.

He meets her eyes for a second, familiar with how little he can see when he looks at her now. She's impervious, completely closed off, her eyes giving nothing away.

"It's fine," Olivia sighs, looking back at him, "Right? Everyone's tired, let's just—it's fine."

He shrugs, hands in his pockets. "Sure. It's fine."

* * *

It's awkward.

Taking turns in the bathroom, avoiding eye contact, pretending not to know one another's nightly routine by heart, it's all awkward.

They've rarely been alone like this since their break up, and certainly not for an extended period of time.

Olivia finishes up in the bathroom, tying the belt of her robe a little too tightly, as if the security of it will somehow make the situation more comfortable. He's sitting on the couch in the suite's living room, in his pajamas, flipping through channels on the television.

Cautiously, she walks out to join him, easing into the armchair across from the couch.

They sit in awkward silence for a few minutes, until Fitz can't take it anymore.

"Is the news okay? I just figured—"

"—oh, it's fine. The news is fine."

"Great."

The awkward silence continues, some of it thankfully filled by the noise of the television, but the tension in the room is still palpable. After about ten minutes _she_ can't take it anymore.

"You know, I'm exhausted, I think I'll just go to bed," she says abruptly, standing up.

"Okay, yeah, me too. I'll, um, I'll take the pull-out, you can have the bed."

"Are you sure? I can—"

"—I insist. It's—take the bed, Liv."

"Okay," she agrees, taking a deep breath.

* * *

As Olivia listens to him shift restlessly on the pull-out sofa, she can't help but start to feel bad. He's in great shape, but his back bothers him sometimes, and his neck gets tight easily. He needs a firm mattress to sleep well, and while hotel mattresses aren't the firmest, she's positive the bed offers more support than what he's currently trying to sleep on.

Finally, she sighs, sitting up in bed. "Fitz, just come sleep in here."

He freezes, and she wonders if he's seriously contemplating pretending to be asleep.

"I'm fine," he says finally, repositioning his head on the pillow.

"Don't be stubborn," she huffs, "You're not going to be able to walk in the morning if you sleep on that thing, your back—"

"Since when do you care about my back?"

It stings, the insinuation that she doesn't even care about his physical well-being anymore, and she falls silent, staring down at the comforter.

Fitz takes a breath, sitting up. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for, I shouldn't—I'm sorry."

She's quiet for a few moments, nodding slowly. "I'm just trying to be nice. I know you're uncomfortable."

"I know that—"

"It's a king-sized bed, just—stay on your own side. It's fine."

"Are you sure?" he asks quietly, acquiescing.

"If you don't take me up on my offer in ten seconds, I'm rescinding it," she snaps, lying back down.

* * *

They're on their backs, as far apart on the mattress as they can get, staring at the ceiling.

"How did we get here?" he asks softly, speaking into the dark.

He sounds so sad that her chest tightens, and she has to blink away tears.

"I don't know," she answers honestly.

"I don't want it to be like this, do you? I want to be able to talk to you, this is—I don't want it to be like this."

Silence fills the room while she swallows her emotion, mentally scolding herself for being so vulnerable. "Me neither. But, I don't know…how do we fix it?"

He laughs humorlessly. "I have no idea."

They're quiet again for a few minutes, both lost in thought.

"We have some time in the morning," she offers softly, still talking to the ceiling, "I think getting thrown together like this was just…a lot. Maybe in the morning it will be easier. We can have breakfast? Talk a little?"

"I'd like that," he whispers.

* * *

In the middle of the night, he wakes up breathless.

His heart is pounding, and as soon as he opens his eyes he realizes why. In their sleep, they've drifted together and they're intertwined. Her head is pillowed on his outstretched arm, her thigh tucked between his legs, her face nestled into his chest, his free arm wrapped around her back. He's inhaling her scent with each breath, and that combined with having her so close has made him rock hard.

She shifts, and he grits his teeth as her thigh presses against his erection, taking a deep breath. After she settles he closes his eyes, willing himself to calm down, trying to get his heart rate under control.

Waking up with Olivia Pope in his arms had _not_ been something he'd envisioned during the planning of this trip.

He briefly considers trying to shift away from her, but as he looks down at her, watching her sleep, he _can't_. She feels so good in his arms that he can't let her go, vulnerable in his half-asleep, aroused state. Before he can stop himself, he leans down and presses his lips to her forehead.

In the White House, at the height of everything, they'd been _exhausted_. Too tired for sex, even, at times. But sometimes, they'd sleep for a few hours and wake up in the middle of the night to make love, in the quiet, no one else awake. They're some of his favorite memories, brushing his lips over her face to wake her, whispering together in the dark afterward. Remembering makes him ache with missing her, and he kisses her forehead again.

Her eyes flutter open, and for just a few seconds, he can tell she's forgotten, that she's temporarily living in one of those same memories. She smiles and blinks sleepily at him, reaching up to lay her palm against his cheek, eyes soft.

And then…she remembers where they are, and who they are to each other now.

He waits, watching sadness creep into her eyes, sure that the same sadness is reflected in his own gaze. His breath catches when her eyes fill with tears, when her lips part and her thumb strokes over his skin, all of her emotion laid bare for him to see. He can't help but be open with her too, looking at her like she's the thing he wants most in the entire world.

Because she still is.

She gets lost in him, lets his proximity overwhelm her, realizing that he's hard against her thigh, and that she's unconsciously aroused just from his nearness.

Maybe it's the late hour, maybe it's because they were _so close_ this time, only to have it all come crumbling down, and it's _devastating_. Maybe she's just exhausted, but she doesn't want to fight it, she just _wants_ _him_.

He watches her eyes change, feels her breath quicken, and suddenly the potential agony of having to give her up after one night seems worth it.

Her hands slide over his jaw, cupping the back of his neck to bring him down to her, and when their lips touch they both stop thinking.

There's nothing to think about because it's just not possible. There's no thought, just heat, and longing, and the irrefutable connection that both of their lives revolve around.

It's not frantic, because they're _tired_.

Tired of pretending that they don't miss each other. Tired of placeholders and meaningless sex. Tired of being without each other.

When they come together it's familiar, as if they haven't lost any time at all. The way his mouth fits against hers centers her in a way nothing else can, it's like coming home at the end of a long trip, always.

She sighs into the kiss, running her hands up and down his back. His lips are soft, warm, _perfect_ , and she opens her mouth a bit more, kissing the top one, then the bottom. They're gentle for a few minutes, kissing and breathing, letting their hands wander, getting reacquainted.

He starts to run his tongue across her bottom lip with each kiss, coaxing her mouth open, inhaling sharply through his nose when her tongue strokes over his.

 _Fuck._

Rolling her onto her back, he sucks on her bottom lip, instinctually dropping his hips down and rocking against her. Her answering moan sends a stab of want deep into his belly, it knocks the breath from his chest and makes him growl. Her mouth falls open against his then, inviting him in, hips shifting restlessly beneath him.

When he drags his lips down the column of her throat, her whole body starts to tingle and her hips flex, fingers tangling in his hair.

" _Oh…Fitz…_ "

They've been so quiet, and hearing her sigh his name like that makes him want to be inside her, desperately. It pulls both of them out of the dreamlike state they've been in, and then things _are_ frantic, they can't get naked fast enough, they can't get close enough.

Making out is more than enough foreplay, and as soon as they're bare he rubs the head of his cock against her core, gathering wetness, coating himself with it. Pushing his hips forward, he eases himself inside her, watching her brows furrow, bringing his forehead down to rest against hers.

He has to stop halfway because she's _hot_ , so wet, so perfectly snug around him that it's all too much for a second. She strokes soothingly over his sides, opening her eyes to connect with him again, watching his face twist with pleasure.

"Miss you," she whimpers, breathlessly.

He swallows thickly, nuzzling his nose against hers. "I miss you so much."

 _Truths, whispered in the dark, always._

She moans when his hips flex and his cock slips further inside her, making her toes curl. Something about the way they fit together always feels incredible. She's never been able to put her finger on exactly what it is, but he feels _so good_ , like he's hitting all of her most sensitive places without even trying. Pulling her thighs up around his waist, she wraps her arms around his neck, moaning into his mouth again, cradling his body.

He swallows the soft sounds she's making into a kiss as he starts to move, stroking into her slowly at first, savoring the moment.

" _Baby…_ "

He can tell she's not thinking about it, that the endearment just slips out, and it makes his chest ache, his cock throbbing inside her.

Being with her is even better than he remembers.

He'd spent so much time trying to tell himself that she wasn't that special, that he wasn't really in love with her the way he'd thought he was. Being with other women would suffice, if he slept with enough of them he'd be able to forget her, he'd be able to stop hurting so badly.

But none of them were her, no one smelled like her, or felt like her, or sounded like her. None of them felt right, none of them felt like this.

He groans helplessly, burying his face in her neck, sinking into her arms as they move together.

For a little while, nothing else exists.

It's just the two of them, communicating everything they're feeling without words, comfort and ecstasy blending together. They draw it out as much as they can, pausing for long, deep kisses, settling into different rhythms, enjoying each other, _loving_ each other. But their chemistry is so ferocious that climax is inevitable, and before they're ready they're coming together, moaning and swearing.

She tightens her arms around him, bringing him to lie on top of her as they come down, trying to catch their breath. They hold each other for long minutes, reluctant to admit that their moment is over, the emotion of it all completely overwhelming them.

He starts to whisper against her neck, arms tight around her. "…'m sorry, Liv…so sorry… _Livvie_ …"

"Shh, shh, don't," she breathes, stroking her fingers through his hair, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat.

They're both sorry.

Sorry that things ended the way they did, grieving for what they almost had.

"It was my fault," she whispers, still holding him, nose buried in his hair.

"Shh…it wasn't."

He rolls them so that she's in his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

They're quiet, eventually drifting off to sleep.

* * *

The first thing she sees the next morning are his eyes.

He has the most beautiful eyes. They're blue, but never like ice, always rich and warm, even if he's angry with her. He's blinking sleepily at her, his expression relaxed. She reaches out to stroke his jawline, letting herself appreciate the lines and edges of his face, tracing them gently.

"We shouldn't have done that," she admits quietly, running her index finger over his lips.

Fitz smiles gently. "No, we shouldn't have."

He lets her lead, watching her watch him, giving her the space she needs to think. After a few minutes, his heart sinks when he sees her guard go back up, when she rolls away from him and climbs out of bed.

"I won't be long," she mutters, disappearing into the bathroom.

* * *

When she exits the bathroom, dressed for the day, armor back on, he's waiting with breakfast.

She stops in her tracks, eyeing him carefully.

"Last night," he starts, gesturing awkwardly toward the table, "You said something about breakfast. If you want—here's breakfast."

It's a peace offering, she realizes. He's willing to forget what happened between them last night and give her a do-over, if she wants it.

 _Is there anything he won't sacrifice for her?_

Olivia walks toward him slowly, trying to find her words, looking at him helplessly.

"Fitz…right now, with everything—I _need_ to win this election. We have to win. And if I—"

"—in January, as soon as I leave office, I'm going to take two weeks to myself in Vermont," he interrupts casually, hands in his pockets, as if he's simply explaining his travel plans to her, "I'm keeping the house, by the way. I love that house, and it's the perfect escape. After I've been there for a few days, and I've been able to relax, and sleep, I'm going to call you. And if you answer, I would very much like it if you'd join me, for however long you'd like to. We could just spend some time together, no pressure, no eyes on us. We could…I don't know, talk? Catch up?"

He's closed the gap between them, standing right in front of her. Her relief is palpable, as if she expected him to demand _everything_ , _right now_ , and she's ecstatic that he didn't.

His face sobers, though, as he says the next part. "Think about it, because I need you to be sure. And if you feel like you're sure, answer the phone, okay?"

She nods, trying to tell him with her eyes that she's going to answer, that she doesn't need to think about it. He leans in, and her breath catches as he gently grasps her waist, pressing a soft kiss against her cheek. When he goes to pull away, she wraps her arms around his neck and keeps him close, squeezing her eyes shut.

Eventually they break apart, and he watches as she gives herself a little shake, restoring her composure. "So, breakfast?"

Fitz smiles, gesturing for her to take a seat. "Breakfast."

* * *

 _January 30_ _th_ _, 2017_

He picks up the phone and hits her contact number, immediately cradling his forehead in his palm.

The phone rings once…twice…three times…

" _Hi_."

* * *

 **A/N: Let me know what you thought! Thank you for reading!**


	34. The Firsts: IX

**A/N: As we all know, stitches can be TERRIFYING for little ones! Let's see how our favorite trio handle an ER visit...**

* * *

 **The First Emergency Room Visit – 4.5 Years Old**

"Listen, you're not using Velcro restraints on my kid. I'm not trying to be a pain here, but we need to wait for my wife, I'm telling you, she's thirty seconds away," Fitz explains, rocking Micah back and forth on his lap, holding gauze against his head.

Shane, their nurse, and Violet, the resident assigned to stitch Micah's cut, look at one another nervously.

"Sir, with all due respect, he's going to hate this either way," Shane explains gently, smiling sympathetically at the preschooler.

"He's going to hate it a lot less if his mom is here too. You really can't glue it?"

Violet shakes her head. "I'm sorry, I wish we could. It's a little too deep, and a little too close to his eye. Now, that topical anesthetic we used will help, but I need to inject some lidocaine as well, and he's not going to like that. You really should let us use the papoose, Mr. President, I promise, we do this all the ti—"

They're interrupted by the clatter of heels against the hospital flooring, and Olivia flies around the corner, nearly running past the small triage room before she catches sight of them and doubles back. She walks briskly into the room, and the two secret service agents assigned to her detail double over near the door, breathing hard.

"Mommy I hurt my head," Micah whimpers, reaching for her as soon as he sees her.

"I heard," she breathes, immediately crouching down next to him, giving him her full attention, "Wait a minute, let Daddy hold the bandage on, okay? How did you hurt your head, buddy?"

Fitz had told her everything on the phone, of course, but she lets Micah tell her anyway, trying to distract him.

"Um, I was running, and it was too fast, and then—and then, um, I didn't know but I fell and I hit my head on the wall," he hiccups, holding on to her arm.

She rubs his back with her other hand, nodding sympathetically. "Oh man, that really stinks, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Does your head hurt?"

Micah nods, sniffling pitifully.

"Well, I think, if you want to feel better, you have to let these nice doctors help, okay?"

"No, Mommy, I don't want to," he says, starting to cry.

Her heart shatters into a million pieces at the fear in his eyes, and she glances up at Fitz, noticing that he's a little pale himself. "Oh, baby, I know you don't but we have to."

"Here, go see Mommy, bud," Fitz murmurs, knowing he'll calm down more quickly if Olivia holds him for a few minutes.

They both stand up, maneuvering around so that she can pick Micah up while Fitz keeps the gauze against him.

"Shh, shh…calm down. You're okay, pumpkin, I'm right here," she whispers, rubbing circles over his back as he cries, swaying back and forth.

"So, he needs stitches," Fitz explains quietly, gesturing to Shane and Violet.

"I'm sorry, I'm Olivia," she greets, offering her hand.

They both step forward, shaking her hand warmly.

"Not a problem at all, ma'am," Violet says, "I was just explaining to your husband, we have a very gentle restraint called a papoose board, that we typically use for young children in situations like this. We'd like to use it, unless the two of you are up for trying to keep him still while we put a few stitches in."

"We won't need that," Olivia says confidently, unconsciously placing her hand protectively over the back of Micah's head, "We just need to take a couple minutes to explain what's happening, he's just scared."

Violet holds up her hands. "It's completely up to you, we almost always defer to the parents."

"Right?" Liv asks, nodding to Fitz, "I don't think we need that, we can keep him still."

"I told you," Fitz smiles, looking at Shane and Violet, "She fixes everything."

They both chuckle, watching the couple sit back down with Micah.

He's relatively calm for the moment, sniffling, an occasional hiccup making his chest heave as he settles onto her lap. Fitz carefully pulls the gauze away from his forehead to reveal the split, and Olivia sucks in a breath. It's not bleeding anymore but it's deep, right above his eyebrow.

"Micah, guess what," Fitz offers, bending forward and pushing his own hair back, "One time, before you were born, I had a cut just like yours on my head. Can you see the line where it was?"

Olivia helps him, parting his hair in the right spot to reveal the scar from his gunshot wound. "See that line right there? That's where Daddy's cut was."

"Daddy you fell when you were little like me?" Micah asks curiously, wiping his nose with his sleeve.

"No, I was a grownup…but yeah, I fell," Fitz explains, deciding they don't need to get into that particular story quite yet, "And I had to get those special strings in my cut too."

At the mention of the "special strings" Micah tenses, his brow furrowing in apprehension.

Olivia jumps in quickly. "But Daddy was so brave, and he got medicine to make sure his cut wouldn't hurt anymore, and then those special strings so that it would heal super fast. And now you can hardly even see it anymore, right? Do you think you can be brave like Daddy?"

"Did the special strings hurt, Daddy?" Micah whimpers, looking at Fitz like a lifeline, hoping against hope that his dad is about to tell him it won't hurt.

Fitz doesn't have the heart to lie to him, and he rubs soothingly against the little boy's leg. "You know, buddy, it might hurt for just a second, when they put the medicine on. But after that, it won't hurt, okay? And if the medicine hurts, you squeeze my hands, as hard as you can."

Even though he's getting upset again, they can see that Micah's absorbing what they're telling him.

"Mommy and Daddy are going to be right here, okay? But you have to be brave and stay still while Violet fixes your cut, we have to let her fix it."

Micah's crying and trying not to cry, and it would be comical if it weren't so heartbreaking. "Okay Mommy. But I still might cry."

Olivia's eyes widen in amusement at his reasoning. "That's okay, you can cry. Here, go with Daddy for a minute."

Fitz picks him up and crosses over to the bed, laying him down, cringing as he starts to panic.

" _No, no, Daddy, I want to stay with you—Mommy!_ "

"I'm not going anywhere, I'm right here," Fitz soothes, simultaneously taking his hands and holding his arms down so he can't squirm too much.

Olivia is at his side in the next second, laying her cheek against the bed, right next to his ear, draping her arm across his chest. "It's okay, Micah."

Violet is quick, already having gotten into position, reading to inject the lidocaine as nimbly as possible.

As expected, Micah cries out as soon as she starts to numb his cut, shrieking and sobbing.

"I know, baby, I know," Liv murmurs, noting that he's crying, but he's not fighting them.

Seconds feel like hours, listening to her little boy cry like this, and Olivia isn't sure who is more grateful when Violet announces she's finished numbing.

"Oh my gosh, Micah, you did so good! I'm all done with the medicine! You are so brave."

Liv summons her calmest, softest tone of voice, pressing a kiss against Micah's cheek. "We're all finished with that part, okay? Shh…you're alright. It's not going to hurt anymore."

" _Mommy…Mommy…_ "

"I'm right here…"

She works on calming him down while they give the lidocaine a minute to sink in, whispering to him, hugging her arm around him.

"Alright, Micah," Violet says softly, "You and your mom are going to hide under this paper while I put your special strings in, okay?"

"Okay," he hiccups, starting to calm down.

Violet covers them with the sterile drape, arranging it so that her field is clear.

"Oh, this is so funny," Liv whispers, gently rubbing his arm, "We're all hidden under here, huh?"

He sniffles, whimpering as Violet starts to stitch and he feels the unfamiliar pulling sensation. "No, I don't like that, Mommy."

"It's okay," she soothes, "It just feels funny, doesn't it?"

"Hey buddy, do you know what we didn't show Mommy yet?" Fitz asks, still holding onto Micah's hands, "We didn't sing her your new song from school!"

Olivia gasps. "You have a new song from school?"

"Umm, yeah," Micah whimpers, "It's about a worm."

"A worm?!" she exclaims softly, "Well, you have to teach it to me."

"Ready?" Fitz chimes in, "We take turns, remember? _The cutest worm_ …c'mon you have to sing too! _The cutest worm_ …"

" **The cutest worm** ," he pipes up quietly, starting to focus on the song.

" _I ever saw_ …"

" **I ever saw**."

" _Was curled up in_ …"

" **Was curled up in**."

"My slurpee straw!"

" **My slurpee straw**."

It turns out to be a _brilliant_ idea, and by the time they get to the fourth verse, everyone is chuckling, there are no more tears, and Violet is putting in her last stitch.

"I threw him up, and he was dead, a piece of ice, went through his head!" Micah giggles, blinking against the light when Violet pulls the drape away.

"Mr. Grant, you are all finished," she smiles, "Can I have a high five? Yeah! Nice! Now, Shane has some of the coolest Band-Aids around, he's going to bring you some and you can pick one, okay?"

"Does he have a green one?" Micah asks, hopefully.

"I bet he has a green one! Let me go get him."

" _Oh_ , come here, you," Liv murmurs, scooping him up into a hug, "I'm so proud of you, you were _so_ brave."

"I was brave like Daddy!"

"You were _way_ braver than me!" Fitz exclaims, holding his hand out for a high five, which Micah enthusiastically returns.

Shane comes in with an assortment of bandages, and Micah excitedly chooses a lime green one.

"Now, this is kind of a secret, we don't really tell the grown ups," Shane says conspiratorially, bending down to put the bandage over Micah's stitches, "But for brave little kids who get stitches, we have _popsicles_. Do you want to come pick one out?"

Micah gasps with excitement, immediately looking toward his parents, and then taking Shane's hand to go pick out his prize when he gets permission.

As soon as they're alone, they share a _look_.

"I think we deserve an A plus for teamwork on that one," Fitz sighs, taking a deep breath and running his hands through his hair, " _Man_."

It takes him by surprise when she's suddenly crying, walking forward into his arms, hiding her face in his chest.

"That was _awful_ ," she says softly, "I never want to hear him cry like that again."

He squeezes her into a hug, pressing a kiss against her hair. "I know. He wasn't in that much pain though, he was just scared."

"I _hated_ it. I wanted to cry along with him."

"You were so strong for him, that's what counts."

"So were you," she murmurs, pulling away, wiping at her eyes, "That song is sadistic, by the way, ' _a piece of ice went through his head'_?"

"Mommy, are you sad? Do you need some pop-sicle?"

Olivia turns around to find Micah looking at her with concerned eyes, and she laughs at his sweet offer.

"I think I do, baby. What flavor did you pick?"

* * *

 **A/N: They survived! I love that worm song, btw. Let me know what you thought! Thank you for reading!**


	35. The Firsts: X

_**A/N: So, apparently I'm gonna keep finding ways to write about Micah as a newborn, because I luuuurrve newborns, and Olitz with a newborn. So hopefully you guys are cool with that :-)**_

* * *

 _ **The First Week Home**_

 _Four Days Old…4pm_

"See, now these are the perks of having a newborn. No one judges you for laying around."

They've been in bed all afternoon, relaxing, watching Netflix, snacking on popcorn.

Olivia giggles, gently tracing Micah's tiny ear as he nurses contentedly at her breast. "Well, _I'm_ in bed because all he wants to do is eat, plus I'm still healing. What's your excuse?"

"Hey, I've been getting up to get us food and drinks, what else should I be doing? We have a new little human we're getting to know."

The baby grunts softly and stops nursing, frowning sleepily as Liv wipes his mouth with a burp cloth.

"Speaking of which, here Daddy," she murmurs, carefully holding Micah out to him, "You take a turn."

She's been cuddling the baby for most of the day, and she watches Fitz smile widely, taking him from her with ease.

"Oh, hi buddy. You want to come hang out with me for a little bit?" he coos softly, cradling him.

She cuddles into his side, laying her head against his chest. "You're gonna like sleeping on Daddy, he's always nice and warm."

"He is such a little peanut, I can't get over it. Six pounds, eleven ounces."

"Were the other kids bigger than him?" she yawns, absently stroking Micah's knee.

"They were all around eight pounds when they were born, all three of them. Even Teddy."

She sucks in a breath. "I would _not_ have wanted to push out an eight pound baby. I barely got _him_ out."

"That is not true," Fitz laughs softly, "You pushed him out like it was nothing. Made it look easy."

Pressing closer to him, she scoffs. "Pretty sure your hand is still bruised."

"I didn't say you made it look painless. Liv—you're crawling into my lap, did you want to just take him back?"

She's as close to him as she can get, gently stroking Micah's belly and legs as Fitz watches in amusement.

"No," she sighs, smiling, "I just haven't been able to get this close to you in a long time. I've had a big belly in the way. Now I just have a little belly in the way, and I can smush it, there's no one in there."

He tightens his arm around her, pressing a kiss against her forehead. "That's true…and you also need to be as close to this baby as you possibly can."

"It's like my body doesn't know how to be away from him yet," she murmurs, hand finally settling over Micah's legs, "I feel like I just _need_ to hold him all the time. It was almost this—this panicked feeling, any time someone had to look him over in the hospital, I wanted to yell at them to be careful. And now, whenever he makes the slightest little peep my boobs start aching and tingling, and I start leaking everywhere—"

"All of that is because you're already an amazing mom," he interrupts, kissing her forehead again, "I'd be more worried if you _weren't_ hogging him twenty-four seven."

She gasps, poking him playfully. "I am _not_ a baby hog."

"Um, you kind of are."

"Well, he happens to need me for sustenance, I can't help it if he wants to eat every hour. Although, he's done a good job getting my milk to come in, I think he's getting a lot more at each feeding now."

"Yeah, as he starts to eat more each time, he'll space them out. You must feel like you're feeding him all day long right now."

"I don't mind," she coos, talking to the baby now, "I'm sure I'll crack eventually and need your Daddy to help me feed you at night, but right now we can handle it, right? I'll just take a lot of naps, that's not a bad deal."

Micah blinks, and _yawns_ , looking exhausted.

"Oh, goodness. Being out here in the world is hard work, huh?" Fitz asks, delicately tracing the bridge of his tiny nose, "You are one gorgeous baby, you look just like your Mommy."

"Really?" she asks, "I think he looks like both of us."

"There's more of you in him. His eyes were blue for like five minutes, they're already turning brown. And he has your curls, what little hair he does have anyway, and your lips."

"He does have cute lips. He has cute everything. Are we being ridiculous right now? Sitting here staring at him and talking about how cute he is?"

"Absolutely not, this is exactly what we're supposed to be doing."

"Good, because I don't feel like doing anything else."

"Daddy loves you," he murmurs, lifting Micah slightly so that he can kiss his temple, "Love you, buddy."

* * *

 _5 Days Old...10am_

Fitz comes out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, to find her sitting on the bed in tears, staring down at Micah as she cries. It's not uncommon for him to find her crying for one reason or another lately, but he's still not used to it after years of trying to pry emotion out of her.

"Hey," he murmurs, treading lightly, sitting down on the bed with her, "What's going on?"

Olivia takes a big shuddering breath and looks over at him. "Someday we're going to _die_."

It takes every ounce of self-control he has not to laugh, and his eyes widen with the effort.

"That's—that's true, Livvie."

"We're going to die and he'll be all alone," she sobs, burying her face in her hands.

"Okay, hang on," he mumbles, scooping Micah up and transferring him into his bassinette.

Sometimes, she just needs a hug, and he has a feeling this is one of those times. With Micah sleeping safely out of the way, he pulls her into his arms and lets her cry into his shoulder for a few minutes, rubbing her back.

"We need to have another baby."

"Liv—"

"We need to have another baby so he'll have a sibling. But, we really shouldn't have another one because we're _old_ , Fitz," she sniffles breathlessly, pulling away to wipe her nose, "I'd be over forty by the time we did that, our next baby could have some kind of genetic disease. Not that we wouldn't love them just the same, but if he had a sibling he had to take care of that would completely defeat the purpose of us having another kid. We could adopt, we definitely have the money for—"

"—okay, _whoa_. Slow down, take a breath for me, okay?" he says, taking her by the shoulders.

She stares into his eyes, letting him coach her through a couple of deep breaths.

"Good," he murmurs, rubbing her arms, "Okay, first of all, he does have siblings. Karen and Teddy, remember?"

Her eyes widen, filling with tears again. "You're right. You're right, I completely forgot about them, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, they _are_ his siblings—I think I'm just so tired—you know I love them too, right?"

Fitz does laugh this time, pulling her into another hug. "Of course I know that."

He pulls her against his chest and reclines back into the pillows, letting her cling until she's calmer.

"Wow," she sighs, sitting up to rub her face, "That was—I don't know what happened, I just started worrying that he'd be alone without us."

"That's okay," he smiles sympathetically, "You're a parent now, worrying is what we do. He won't be alone though, he has Karen and Teddy—"

"—I can't believe I did that."

"—and, he'll probably grow up and get married, have his own family. Then he _really_ wouldn't be alone."

"—you're right. You're _so_ right, he'll be okay."

Sighing in relief, she flops back onto the bed next to him. Fitz absently takes her hand, and they lay there in silence for a few minutes, exhaustion hitting them.

"Oh my god, did I just tell you we had to have another baby?"

"Yep."

She shakes her head, taking a deep breath.

"These hormones are a bitch."

* * *

 _5 Days old…1pm_

Micah cries and cries as they bathe him, protesting as if they're wiping him down with acid instead of warm water and baby soap.

"He _hates_ this," she moans, cradling his head in her palm, running the cloth over him.

Fitz stands next to her at the changing table, helping adjust his little arms and legs. "I'm not surprised. It's the first time we've done it, and it's such a foreign sensation. He's okay. Here, I'll get the back of him."

She hands him the cloth, maneuvering the still crying baby around so that he can wipe his back, his tiny butt, the little folds of his neck.

"Okay, lets put his diaper back on and wrap the towel around him, then we'll do his head."

"Gosh, this is a production," she comments, pulling the tabs around to secure his diaper.

As soon as the towel is loosely wrapped around him, he stops screaming, his cries dropping off into whimpers.

"There we go," she coos, trying to keep him from squirming his way out of the warmth of the towel, "Almost done. Should I just hold him up, like this? I feel like I'm going to drop him, he's so little."

"You're doing fine…yeah, that's perfect. Okay, buddy, last thing."

She cradles one hand under his neck and one under his back, holding him above the bowl of warm water. The sensation of the sponge against his head makes Micah cry again, and Olivia leans down to nuzzle her nose against his cheek, pressing kisses there.

"Shh…you're okay…shh…"

"Just have to rinse…okay, you're all done, you made it."

Watching him cry is killing her, and as soon as they're done she wraps the towel tightly around him, lifting him into her arms. He whimpers and squawks, and without even thinking about it she unclips her nursing top and puts him to her breast. He latches gratefully, falling asleep almost immediately as he suckles.

"There we go, pumpkin, all better. Oh my goodness, so traumatic, why did Mommy and Daddy do that to you, huh?"

* * *

 _6 Days Old…2pm_

"Is his poop supposed to look like this?"

Olivia immediately comes out of the kitchen and into the living room, where he's changing Micah on the floor.

"What do you mean? It looks the same as it did yesterday," she muses, looking down into the soiled diaper.

"I'm just realizing it's different than other diapers I've changed. It's like, more liquid-ey or something."

"Your guess is as good as mine. You should Google it."

Fitz groans, snapping Micah back into his onesie, heading into the kitchen to wash his hands. "No more Google-ing. Every time you Google something you panic."

"That's why I told _you_ to do it," she calls, scooping the baby up and settling onto the couch with him.

"Fine," he sighs, flopping down next to her with his phone, "But only because I'm curious, not because I think there's anything wrong."

She un-pauses the documentary they'd been watching, taking a sip of tea.

"Huh," he muses after a few minutes, scrolling through an article.

"Well?"

"Apparently, breast-fed baby poop is different than formula-fed baby poop. His is totally normal for being breast-fed, it just looks different. My other kids drank formula."

"Oh. Well that's good to know," Liv says, glancing down at Micah, "Yeah, we just think breastfeeding is easier, huh? If you're hungry I can just whip out a boob, I don't even have to get up. We like it, and it's so good for you, right pumpkin?"

Fitz smirks at her baby-voice, setting his phone to the side and stretching out on the couch.

"Mellie didn't breastfeed them at all? Not even for a month or so?" she asks after a moment.

He shakes his head, shrugging.

She's quiet again, contemplating. " _How_ did she stop the milk fro—you know what, nevermind."

* * *

 _7 Days Old…3am_

Fitz wakes up slowly, realizing that she's not in bed with him.

When he blinks his eyes open, he spots her in the rocking chair, the room softly illuminated with dim lighting. She's tucked their sleeping baby inside her robe, holding him upright against her chest as she rocks gently, leaning back in the chair with her eyes closed. He shifts around in the bed and clears his throat, trying not to startle her.

"Hey," she says softly, opening her eyes, "I'm sorry, did we wake you? The light usually doesn't."

He scoots over to see them better, lying on his side. "No, you didn't, I just realized you weren't in bed, I think. He okay?"

"Mmm hmm," she hums, gently kissing Micah's head, "I just wasn't sure if he burped. I think he did, but I wanted to hold him for a little while, make sure he wasn't uncomfortable."

"He looks comfy to me."

As he watches her rock their baby, a wave of astonishment washes over him. The fact that she's here with him, in a house that's just theirs, holding a little boy that they made…he still can't believe it.

"That baby looks good on you, Livvie," he smiles, warmth and love shining in his eyes.

She looks bashful, smiling and kissing Micah again. "Stop."

"I can't. I've never seen you look so peaceful."

The baby stirs against her, nuzzling his face into her, and she rubs her hand over his back to settle him. He squeaks and sighs, giving in to the pressure of his swaddle again, falling back into deeper sleep.

"When I was pregnant, I never thought it would be like this," she admits quietly, still stroking Micah's back.

Fitz blinks sleepily, propping his head up. "Like what?"

She sighs, relaxing back in the chair. "I always imagined it being _so_ hard. Having him hasn't been _easy_ , but…I imagined him crying all the time, and not being able to breastfeed, and me not being able to comfort him or figure out what he needed. I honestly imagined him hating me for not knowing what I was doing, and only wanting you."

"Oh, Liv—"

"—but he's…he's amazing. And I still feel like I don't really know what I'm doing, but he doesn't care. He loves nursing, he's had a pretty good latch from the beginning, we haven't had any major problems. He's so snuggly and content, and I just never thought—I knew I would love him, but I never thought I would love taking care of him this much. I didn't know that just _holding_ him—I didn't know. I didn't think I had it in me."

"You didn't think you'd like _being a mom_ ," he emphasizes, watching as she turns the lights off and carefully lowers Micah into the bassinette next to their bed.

She shakes her head, waiting a moment until he settles again, resting her palm over him. "No, I didn't. But I do. It's only been a week, and…I can't imagine not being his mom."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think!**_


	36. Paroxysm

**A/N: The alternate title for this one is "Olivia Pope is Not a Sociopath". I'm still not over the ending of the _Thwack_ episode, so I fixed it with a more realistic reaction on Olivia's part.**

* * *

" _Shh…shh…shh…_ "

Shushing calms babies because it imitates the sound they hear in utero. The soothing effect of that sound, is something that's often carried into adulthood. Anyone who sleeps better with white noise, or falls asleep easily in a car, does so because, once upon a time, they were a fetus being kept warm and safe inside their mother's body. They listened to the loud rush of blood pulsations for nine months, being jiggled around all day as their mother went about her daily life, inadvertently ingraining sensory memories that every human being possesses somewhere in the recesses of their brain.

It's how everyone starts out.

It's how Olivia Pope finds herself being comforted right now, at thirty-nine years old.

* * *

The only thing she's aware of is Fitz in her ear, shushing.

She doesn't know how long she's been sitting on the floor in the bunker, and she doesn't remember how or why he's here. She just knows he's here, remembers hearing his voice, seeing his eyes, and being pulled up into his arms where's it's safe.

It's always safe here.

Olivia takes a deep breath, letting his familiar scent wash over her, sliding her hands across his warm, broad shoulders. From the moment she feels his body against hers she doesn't know anything else, and she doesn't want to. She clings to him, because he's the only thing that makes sense in a world that feels like it's caved in around her. She closes her eyes to it all and pushes it away.

Fitz is here, it's okay now.

Fitz will keep her safe.

It's okay to hide, it's okay to let go.

He loves her, and she trusts him.

She doesn't need to worry, she's not alone anymore, he's here.

Fitz is here.

* * *

She's not making any noise, she's nearly catatonic when he finds her, and he knows it's bad. It's very bad. So, he shushes her.

" _Shh…shh…shh…_ "

They've found themselves in this position once before, after a particularly brutal nightmare left her hyperventilating and sobbing. Fitz doesn't have much experience comforting adults, but he's comforted three babies and he knows they like to be shushed, so that's what he'd done. And it had worked, it had comforted her enough that she could breathe again, that the tears nearly stopped.

He's rocking her now, just a little bit, because he knows she likes that when she's upset. She's taking deep breaths, her face tucked into his neck, breathing him in. He has no idea how this happened but it doesn't matter right now, the only thing that matters is the broken woman in his arms.

The doors open, breaking the silence, and Abby walks in.

"Oh my god…"

Fitz tries to turn toward Abby, to ease his arms from around her but she tightens her hold around his neck.

"No, _no_ ," she whimpers, burying her face in his shoulder, begging him not to let her go.

"Okay, I'm sorry, I won't. I've got you," he murmurs, so quietly that only she can make out what he's saying.

Her heart starts pounding at the feeling of him letting her go, and he feels it against his chest. She's clinging to him tightly, like he's a lifeline, and she's obviously in shock after…whatever had happened in this room.

"Abby," he calls in a louder voice, "I need you to give us a few minutes. Go outside. No one comes in until we come out."

"Sir—"

"Out. _Now_."

* * *

Her whole body is trembling in his arms as the adrenaline leaves her bloodstream, and she lets go of him for half a second to wrap her arms under his shoulders instead of over, pressing her face into his chest. Fitz wraps her up tighter as she shakes, trying to get as much contact between them as possible.

" _I'm scared_."

" _Shh…shh…shh…_ "

He's scared too, because he doesn't know all of the details but he's almost certain that she's just committed murder in a fit of PTSD-induced rage.

The signs were there.

She doesn't know that he can tell when she's having flashbacks, but he can. Her tells are so subtle, so quick, but he's seen it often enough to recognize when it's happening.

For a split second, everything behind her eyes disappears while the flashback itself is happening. She's unaware of what's going on around her, and she'll often startle ever so slightly when she comes out of it. Sometimes when it's over she does a slow blink, trying to clear her head, and sometimes she cracks her neck, sometimes she does both.

All of the signs were there during their meetings in the kitchen. He'd watched her out of the corner of his eye, watched her have two flashbacks during their first meeting and three during their second. He knew she was struggling and he didn't say anything to her, and he should have. He should have swallowed his damn pride and _made_ her talk to him. Even as he thinks it he knows its irrational, because she would have shut down immediately, but he should have _tried_.

He needs to get her out of here.

"Liv, we need to leave, okay?" he says, talking to her in a low, soothing voice.

She squeezes him tighter, which at least indicates that she can hear him, that she's semi-cognizant of what's going on. He rocks her back and forth.

"We're gonna leave together, I'm not letting you go. It's just you and me, don't worry about anything else right now."

He slowly moves to pick her up, looping one arm under her knees and the other around her back. She lets him, wrapping her arms around his neck, hiding her face again.

"I've got you. Just breathe, okay? Keep breathing," he murmurs, feeling her nod against his shoulder as he walks to the door and taps it with his foot.

Abby is still outside when they leave, and there are questions written all over her face, but Fitz ignores her, heading straight for the exit of the bunker.

"Sir—"

"Deal with it," he calls over his shoulder, inadvertently making Olivia jump in his arms, "Shh, I'm sorry. We're okay, just a bit of a walk."

The secret service don't question her presence, taking up their usual formation around him as he turns into the tunnel matrix beneath the White House. His strides are long and purposeful even though he's carrying her, and he can't help but realize how light she feels, how small she is in his arms. She's still shaking, shuddering violently against him every so often, her grip tight around his neck.

They finally make it up the stairs and into the service elevator. His arms are burning but he barely notices, so intent on getting her up to the Residence, where he can sit her down and make sure she's alright.

He carries her straight into the bathroom and shuts the door, quickly deducing that they're least likely to be disturbed there. She has blood on her face, he remembers, and he wants to clean her up as soon as she'll let him.

There's a chair in the corner of the bathroom and he sits down on it, keeping her in his lap.

"We're in the Residence, okay? We're just going to sit here, I won't let you go. When you're ready, you can let go, I won't move until you do."

He feels her take another deep breath and relax her grip around his neck a little bit, but she doesn't move yet, keeping her face hidden.

* * *

Slowly, she becomes more and more aware.

They're in the Residence, she vaguely remembers him telling her that. She's still in his arms, and one of his hands is tracing slow circles over her back, trying to help her relax. More than anything, she wishes she could relax, that the tremors would stop, that her heart would stop pumping so hard.

Eventually, she realizes that he's talking to her.

His voice is low and soft, vibrating through his chest, and she starts to focus on the tone, letting it soothe her. For the first few moments, she feels like she's in a fog, like he's speaking another language, but his words slowly start to make sense.

"…and the other night, I was having dinner with Teddy. We were eating macaroni and cheese, so, he was in a particularly good mood. I was too, to be honest, we don't eat macaroni and cheese as adults nearly enough. Anyway, we're sitting there and he goes 'Daddy, what is your job gonna be after you're done being President?' And, I didn't really know what to tell him. I mean, I know I'll do some foundation work, and speaking engagements, and activism, but how do you explain that to a 4-year-old? So, I asked him what _he_ thought my job should be. He told me he wanted me to be a farmer," he tells her, chuckling quietly.

"I thought that was such a funny answer. When I asked him why he wanted me to be a farmer, he told me that they have a garden at his school. He's been going to preschool a couple mornings a week, this fancy-pants preschool that meets the security requirements, and they have a whole ecosystem there apparently. He said going to the garden is his favorite, and if I were a farmer, we could have a _huge_ garden. And then, he said 'we could be together all day and pick the vegetables', and I realized we just wanted us to do something together. That broke my heart."

As soon as she focuses on his words, everything starts to sharpen. Flashes of memory start to come back, her heart starts to pound, her stomach starts to twist—

"Fitz, I'm going to be sick," she whimpers, sitting up abruptly, covering her mouth.

He springs into action, helping her over to the toilet as quickly as he can. "Okay, that's okay, over here."

She drops to her knees and wretches, immediately throwing up the contents of her stomach.

"It's okay," he murmurs, gathering her hair and holding it away from her face.

Taking a deep breath, she coughs and gags, dry heaving, starting to cry. There'd barely been anything in her stomach to begin with, but bile and acid rise before she can stop them, burning her throat.

" _Fitz_ ," she moans, gasping for breath.

"I know," he soothes, "It's alright, I'm right here. We're okay. Easy, _easy_."

She heaves a few more times before she gains control, taking deep breaths, swallowing over and over. Fitz lets her hair go, reaching up to flush the toilet and grab a tissue for her. When she turns to look at him she's crying harder, her eyes wide and wet.

"I—oh my god—I ki—Fitz, I killed him—I— _oh my god_ —"

"Shh…I know," he whispers, tears filling his own eyes at the devastation in hers, "What _happened_ , Livvie?"

Her whole body shudders, her breath catching as she cries. "I just wanted him to stop. I needed it to stop—I don't—I—he was so disgusting, I'm not— _why_ —I don't understand why he would say those things—"

"What things?" Fitz murmurs, trying to make sense of what she's saying.

"He was taunting me," she gets out, her voice shaking, "He said I was cheap, and—and a s-slut, and I couldn't—I should have been stronger, but that _fucking_ red door—I can't get away, I can't get out, _why can't I get out, Fitz_ —"

She folds in on herself, sobbing, arms wrapped around her stomach, and he doesn't think he's _ever_ felt so helpless. He gathers her up, holding her against his chest as she cries loud, gut-wrenching sobs.

"… _help me…I need—I can't get out…_ "

"Shh, shh," he soothes, blinking against the sting of tears, tightening his arms around her.

* * *

She cries for what feels like forever, until he's wondering if she needs more help than he can give her.

But just when he's second guessing himself, she starts to quiet.

She's exhausted herself, finally calming, crawling further into his arms and letting him support her weight. Fitz rubs her back, trying to decide what to do next, trying to decide what she needs. Being allowed to comfort her is a foreign concept, but he goes with his gut, deciding that he should clean her up and let her sleep.

"Hey," he murmurs, gently sitting her up, "Sit up for me, okay?"

"Fitz…'m tired," Liv mumbles, holding on to his arms.

He unties her coat, peeling it off. "I know, we're gonna sleep. Let me help you change first, do you want to wear one of my shirts?"

She nods slowly, absently playing with the end of his tie, unnaturally focused on the pattern, the texture. When he goes to stand, she grabs his arm, squeezing tightly.

"Okay, we'll do this first, come here."

Helping her stand, he sits her on the closed toilet seat and grabs a few tissues, wetting them with warm water. She lets him gently clean the blood from her face, and he's relieved when he hands her a toothbrush, and she's coherent enough to use it. He coaxes her to stand and watches her brush, spit, and rinse, waiting for her to look at him.

Her eyes are a little vacant, but she makes eye contact with him, silently telling him he's doing the right thing, that she can't do it by herself right now.

Eventually, he gets her changed and into bed, stripping his clothes off and climbing in with her. She immediately buries herself in his arms, sighing in relief.

" _I'm sorry_ ," she whispers, her breath catching.

"No," he murmurs immediately, nuzzling his face into her hair, "It's gonna be okay. Don't worry, everything is going to be okay. We'll fix it."

She's crying again, quietly.

"How?"

Fitz sighs, tightening his arms around her. "I don't know, Livvie. But we'll figure it out, I promise."

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought!**


	37. The First Birthday

**A/N: When I posted a sneak peek of this on Tumblr I said: 'STAY WITH ME ON THIS ONE. Guys, be cool, okay?'. This is a concept that I've wanted to explore for a while. Just as a reminder, The Firsts is canon ONLY up to 5x05. In this one shot, I stole a character from S6, so I didn't want anyone to get confused.**

* * *

 _ **Two weeks before the party…**_

"So, have you thought about…what we talked about the other night?"

Olivia sighs, twirling up another forkful of spaghetti. "You mean inviting my father to our son's first birthday party? No, I haven't thought about it."

" _Aa-ah! Mama!_ "

Micah picks up a handful of his chopped spaghetti, holding it out for Liv to see.

"Mmm, yummy," she agrees, making an exaggerated motion with her fork as she eats, "Your turn, you eat some."

He shoves the handful toward his mouth, awkwardly opening his fist so that a few noodles make it inside, and the rest fall into his bib reservoir.

"Good try, buddy," she smiles, stifling a laugh, "Keep going, after it all falls in there we'll dump it out and try again, okay?"

Shaking her head, she turns her attention back to her own plate, cutting a meatball with the side of her fork. After a moment, she realizes Fitz is staring at her.

"What?"

"You know 'what'."

"Fitz, I don't want to fight in front of Micah—"

" _Mo? Buuuuh—mmma—ma—_ "

"We're not fighting, we're having a discussion—"

"—a discussion that I don't want to have."

"Olivia, it's okay to consider letting other people into his life, we can't shelter him forever. Our address isn't exactly a secret anymore, Eli and Sandra even sent out that Christmas card, remember? That picture of them with their cats—"

"—I remember," she huffs, stabbing at a piece of meatball.

"He hasn't asked to meet Micah. He hasn't tried to call, or come by, he's completely respected our privacy. He's been sending him things since he was born, but only to your office. And always with a nice, really normal card—"

"—and what? Just because he hasn't been acting like an obvious sociopathic murderer, that means it's safe to have him around our child?"

There's a soft _splat_ , and they both look over to see that Micah's dropping handfuls of spaghetti onto the floor.

" _Uh-oh_ ," he says, looking down at his handiwork.

"Yeah, uh-oh," Liv agrees, setting her fork down and twisting her hands, doing the baby sign for ' _all done_ ', "Are you all done? Is that why you're playing?"

He imitates her, confirming that he's finished, squirming in his high chair.

"Can we finish talking about this?" Fitz asks as she stands up, wetting a clean dishcloth.

She shakes her head, making Micah whine in protest while she wipes his face and hands. "There's nothing to talk about. It's not a good idea."

"Liv—"

"—c'mon," she interrupts, swinging the baby up onto her hip, "Let's go take a bath. Oh, I know, so exciting, you _love_ bath time, huh?"

Fitz sighs after they disappear up the stairs, sitting back in his chair.

* * *

They don't talk again until later, after she puts Micah down for the night and comes to bed. Fitz is already under the covers, watching something on his iPad. She's quiet at first, climbing in next to him, rubbing moisturizer into her hands.

There's a space between them and she _hates_ it. She hates knowing she's put it there with her refusal to talk about something difficult.

Sighing, she slides a little closer to him, tipping her head to see his screen.

"What's that?"

He glances at her, picking up on the fact that she's offering an olive branch. "It's a tutorial on how to make these wooden toy cars. See?"

She leans against him to see the video, watching a pair of hands cut and sand.

"You have to buy some hardware for the wheels, but they're all wood other than that. I thought maybe I'd make some for Micah. You can buy stuff like this, but, I dunno…I thought it looked like fun."

 _And how can she possibly be angry with him now?_

"I think he'd really like that," she smiles, laying her head on his shoulder.

"I think so too."

"Can you paint them any color you want?"

"Sure. But I'll probably do red, white, and blue, of course."

"Of _course_."

They watch the video for a while, listening to the voiceover in silence, letting the tension in the air dissipate the way it always does after they've had a spat.

"I don't understand why you want him to be in Micah's life," she says quietly, not moving from her place against him, "I don't want to fight. I just want to understand."

Fitz sighs, locking the iPad so that it's quiet in their bedroom. When he doesn't say anything she sits up, watching as he thinks about how to explain his feelings.

"I want him to have 'normal'," he says softly, turning to meet her eyes, "I want—I want him to have everything that we didn't have. I want him to be raised by his parents, not hired help. I want him to grow up in _one_ house, and for him to have _one_ bedroom. I want him to complain that we make him eat dinner with us every night, and that he has to stay home one Saturday night every month for movie night and ' _none of his friends have to do that_ '. I want him to have birthday parties with kids that are actually his friends, friends that we know, friends that could be _our_ kids because they're here so much. I want him to grow up telling us how gross we are because we kiss so much, because we'll be showing him what a real, loving relationship looks like. I just—I want him to have normal. I want it more than anything."

She's floored, and it takes her a moment to find words.

"Me too," she whispers, "All of it."

"And part of 'normal', is family. There are a lot of different kinds of families, I know that, and I love that he has an Aunt Bee, and an Uncle Huck—"

Olivia smiles, thinking about how her team has rallied around them.

"—but…he has a grandpa. A biological one. And they've never met."

"Fitz, I don't…I don't trust him. I don't trust him around the most precious thing in my life. And I don't understand how you could trust him either."

"Look, I'm not saying we should let him babysit. I'm just saying, Micah could know his grandfather, and if that's possible, I want him to. I think Eli's changed, for the better."

She shakes her head. "How can you possibly know that? Just because he's retired now, and living with a woman, that doesn't make him normal."

Fitz pauses, and the way he steels himself makes her heart skip a beat.

"I want to show you something. And I need you not to be angry with me after I do, okay?"

"You're scaring me," she breathes, laughing nervously.

"No, don't be scared. Just—here, just look at these."

He reaches over to open his nightstand drawer, pulling out a manila envelope and handing it to her.

"What is this?"

"Just open it."

Olivia opens the envelope, reaching inside to slide out a thick stack of large, color photographs.

 _Long-lens photographs of Eli Pope._

She glances up at Fitz, who is watching her apprehensively, and starts to flip through the pictures. They're completely innocuous photos of her father, eating breakfast at his kitchen table, golfing, at the pharmacy, sitting on his couch watching television, walking through the farmers' market. Most of them feature Sandra, his partner, and it looks as if they spend almost all of their time together.

"You've been having my father followed," she whispers, still looking through the pictures.

"Yes."

"For how long?"

He hesitates, taking a breath. "Almost a year—"

"—a _year?!_ "

She climbs off the bed and starts to pace, looking at him in shock.

"Are you insane?! Do you know how dangerous that is?!"

"I had to know!" he argues, raising his voice slightly, "I had to know if we were in any danger! As soon as Micah was born, as soon as I realized we were actually going to get to have this life, I had to make sure _nothing_ was going to stand in our way. So, yes, I had him followed."

"And you kept it from me."

"Of course I did. You were…" he trails off, remembering, "You were _floating_. I've never seen you that happy, I couldn't believe it. I still can't. This past year has felt like a dream."

Some of the anger leaves her body at that, because he's right. She's never been this happy before.

 _Still…_

"You could have told me. I had a right to know what you were doing," she says, crossing her arms.

"Okay, _okay_. I'm sorry," he soothes, trying to bring the energy in the room down, "I'm not sorry that I did it, but I'm sorry that I kept it from you."

"What was the _point_ of all this?" she asks, exasperated, tossing the photos onto the bed, "So we know he golfs now, and goes to Trader Joe's on Monday afternoons. What does that matter?"

"It matters because that's _all_ he's doing, Liv. This guy that I hired, he's good. He doesn't miss anything. He tracked your father's _every_ move for a year, and didn't come up with anything remotely incriminating."

Olivia stares at him, a myriad of emotions rising up inside her, spilling out onto her face.

She sinks back onto the bed, rubbing her hands over her face. "This is a lot for me to process."

"I know it is, and I'm sorry. But it would have been a lot to process no matter when I told you about it."

Her head is spinning and she takes a deep breath, her eyes landing on the pile of pictures.

 _Her dad is living a normal life?_

 _He can't be. It's not possible_.

"I know this is a lot to take in," Fitz says quietly, reaching for her hand, "And I know what he's done, okay? _I know_. But I also know that not all the memories you have of your father are bad. I know it wasn't perfect, and a lot of it was really, really terrible. But he's your dad, and we owe this to Micah. We owe it to him to give this a chance."

She doesn't say anything for a long time, but she lets him hold her hand, focuses on the way his thumb is rubbing tiny circles against her skin.

"I need to think about it," she says finally, so quiet that he almost doesn't hear her, "His party isn't for two weeks. I need to think about it."

" _Okay_."

* * *

 _ **The night before the party…**_

"What is that?"

Fitz looks up from what he's doing, shooting her an incredulous look.

"Seriously? It's Cookie Monster."

She pulls a skeptical face, walking over to stand beside him. "But…he's not furry."

"Alright, listen, Ace of Cakes, how am I supposed to make a cake look furry? We don't have piping tips or anything fancy like that."

"I don't know, I'm just saying," she giggles, linking her arm through his, "He should be furry!"

"Well, you're free to do some Googling if you want," he smiles, adjusting the eyes on the cake.

She grabs the knife he'd been using to spread the frosting.

"I saw this on a baking show once," she says, placing the tip of the knife against the cake and pulling up rapidly, creating a little tuft of frosting, "Who knew those late night trips down the rabbit hole of Youtube when Micah was a newborn would pay off?"

He shakes his head in wonder, watching her make a few more tufts of 'fur'. "That looks great. Here, it will go faster if we both do it."

They work in companionable silence for a little while, working their way around the cake.

"So, I talked to my dad today."

Fitz stops what he's doing and looks up, staring at her. "You did?"

"Mmm-hmm. He was…he sounded excited. He and Sandra are both coming tomorrow."

They haven't re-visited the issue in weeks, and he's pleasantly surprised.

"That's great, Liv," he says softly, smiling at her, "Are you nervous?"

"A little," she admits, stepping back to admire their decorating skills, "But, it's like you said. We should do it for Micah, right?"

He steps forward and pulls her against his chest, kissing her temple.

* * *

 _ **The day of the party…**_

"Good morning, pumpkin," she says softly, walking slowly over to his crib, "Happy Birthday."

He's sitting up, his curls wild, blinking sleepily at her.

"Did you have a good sleep? Do you feel older?"

He looks like he's not quite awake yet, furrowing his brow.

"It's early for you to be up," she comments, keeping her voice quiet, reaching in to stroke his hair, "Do you want to lay down?"

After a moment, he puts his arms up, whimpering a little bit.

"Okay, come here, I was just asking. No need to get upset."

As soon as she picks him up he hugs her, laying his head on her shoulder.

"Did you need some extra cuddles today? Hmm? You know, just because you're one now, that doesn't mean Mommy won't cuddle you. I'll be trying to cuddle you even when you're thirty, don't worry about that," she murmurs, patting his back, settling into the rocking chair.

Right away, he wriggles down to lay in her arms, his way of asking to nurse. She smiles at him, pulling her shirt up and watching as he latches contentedly. Now that he's crawling, sometimes this is the only time he's still all day, and she always tries to soak it up.

She gently plays with his curls, winding them around her finger. They're looser than her own natural curls, although his texture is similar, and in the sunlight she can see streaks of lighter brown through his otherwise chocolate brown color. They're getting long, and she realizes it might be time to take him for his first professional haircut. She's been trimming his hair once in a while, but he hasn't been to a barber shop yet.

He's nursing longer than normal, and she starts to rock, rubbing his back to see if he'll go to sleep again. His eyes are a little heavy as he snuggles closer to her, but he doesn't fall asleep, blinking up at her instead.

"You're stubborn this morning," she murmurs, stroking his temple with her thumb, "You don't want to sleep? That's okay, you're allowed, birthday boy. Are you just hungry? Here, have the other side too."

He lets her flip him around, sighing as he settles in again.

"I bet Daddy will make you a special breakfast. Maybe pancakes. I'll tell him you were starving this morning."

Micah doesn't seem to care about the promise of pancakes, still watching her as he nurses, reaching up to play with her shirt.

Liv strokes his belly, his chunky thighs, listening to him breathe and swallow. "I want to tell you something, okay? Today, you're going to meet someone new. You're going to meet your grandpa. I know you don't know what a grandpa is because you've never had one before, but you do have one, and he wants to meet you. Now, I wanted to tell you it's okay if you don't like him, because I don't like him very much either. It's—it's more complicated than I want you to worry about until you're old, like Mommy. But…if you do like him, that's okay, too. I won't be mad. Because, a long time ago, I really liked him, too. And sometimes, I miss that."

She whispers the last part like it's a secret, because it is.

"You'll keep Mommy's secret, won't you?"

He finally stops nursing and gives her a big smile, reaching for her face.

"I'll take that as a yes," she giggles, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

* * *

The party is in full swing by one o'clock that afternoon. Luckily, it's a warm, sunny June twenty-second and they're able to have it outside, sitting around on their collection of lawn chairs and patio furniture. Fitz is grilling in between running after Teddy and the rest of the kids, while the adults have broken up into smaller groups around the yard. The OPA team, a few of their neighbors, and a handful of close friends from Fitz's administration are all enjoying the beautiful day.

The only person missing is the guest of honor.

"Do you think we should wake him up?" Liv asks, coming over to stand beside Fitz at the grill.

"Maybe, although, the longer we wait to wake him up, the happier he'll be."

The decision is made for them a second later, when a squawk comes over the monitor clipped to Olivia's shorts.

"Ah, there he is," Fitz says, looking excited, "I'll go grab him."

Liv wanders back over to the shaded patio, plopping down into her Adirondack chair.

"If he finally waking up?" Abby whines, "I haven't seen him in ages, I need baby snuggles."

Liv chuckles, taking a sip of her sangria. "Fitz just went to get him. You know, if you want a baby so badly, I know a guy who could probably—"

"—oh please. The second Leo sees me even _playing_ with Micah, he's going to break out into a cold sweat."

"My husband was the same way," Layla, their next-door neighbor, pipes up from across the table, "Just give him some time, he'll come around."

"You just want a baby because _I_ had one," Liv teases.

Abby sticks her tongue out, shifting to sit cross-legged in her chair. "How old are your boys, Layla?"

"Javi is five, and Henry just turned two. They're the ones tackling their dad right over there."

They all look over and laugh as Henry takes a running start, joining his older brother to pile on top of their dad in the grass.

Fitz comes back outside carrying a sleepy Micah, who looks a little uncertain when he sees the crowd of people.

"Look, buddy," he says softly, stopping next to the group of women, "All of your friends came to tell you Happy Birthday!"

Micah blinks slowly, looking around cautiously. Everyone ' _awws'_ when he finally sees Olivia and reaches for her, leaning out of Fitz's arms.

"Hi, baby," she murmurs, snuggling him on her lap, letting him curl into her arms and lay his head on her shoulder, "It's a lot to wake up to, I know. Can you grab a couple graham crackers? I don't want him to start trying to take my shirt off."

"Oh, yeah, good idea," Fitz agrees, turning to go back into the house.

"Are you guys weaning?" Layla asks knowingly, smiling at them.

"Kind of," Liv sighs, rubbing her palm over Micah's back as he yawns into her neck, "In the morning and at bedtime I feel like he's just not ready yet, and I'm fine with that, to be honest. But he seems okay after he naps if I'm not the one to go get him, and we distract him for a little while."

Layla nods, having been through it herself. "Sometimes they just need a little nudge. I was _so_ ready to be done when mine turned a year old."

Liv smiles awkwardly, not really able to relate to the well-intentioned comment. "It's really only an issue on the weekends. But, he's used to it so, we're working on it."

She steers the conversation away from breastfeeding, relieved to talk about something else while Micah takes his time waking up. After a few minutes he sits up in her lap, looking around at everyone, smiling when Abby waves to him.

"Well? What do you think?" Liv asks him softly, watching him glance around, "Are you gonna wake up and say hi to everybody? Want a graham cracker?"

She breaks off a small piece and puts it in her palm, holding it out for him. He pushes her hand away immediately, reaching for the larger sheet in her other hand.

"Oh, you want the whole thing? Of course you do, here."

He's the center of attention while he snacks, as babies often are.

"Ooh, Micah, I think your big sister just got here," Liv whispers in his ear.

"Where's my little brother?" Karen calls, shading her eyes as she walks across the yard.

"Which one?" Liv calls back, bouncing Micah in her lap.

"The one I'm _obsessed_ with. Mo-Mo! Is it your birthday?! Hi, squirt!"

Micah is a big fan of Karen, and he laughs when she squats down in front of him, taking his hands. Half-chewed graham cracker falls out of his mouth because he's smiling so big, and Karen makes a face as it lands on Olivia's leg.

"Oops, sorry Liv."

Liv shrugs, grabbing a napkin. "Eh, I'm used to it at this point. Go play with Karen, buddy."

"Can I take him to go swing? Or does he need to eat?" she asks, still playing with this hands.

"Oh, take him, he'll love it."

Micah goes willingly when Karen picks him up, but as soon as she steps away he starts to whine, eyes focused on Liv.

"Just take him over there," Liv reassures her, "He'll forget about me in a second, he's fine."

"C'mon, Mo," Karen coos, turning away even as Micah protests, "Let's go swing! You wanna swing?"

Sure enough, when Olivia glances over after a few minutes his head is thrown back in laughter, his giggles and shrieks echoing across the yard.

"Liv?"

Olivia turns around to find Fitz standing uneasily next to…her father.

* * *

 _Her heart stops for a split second._

She hasn't seen him in so long, it feels like she's having an out-of-body experience as two of her worlds abruptly collide.

"Dad," she greets, standing up with the rush of adrenaline, "H—hi, I'm glad you made it."

Eli steps forward, smiling awkwardly. "We wouldn't have missed it for the world. I—um, this is Sandra."

"It's nice to finally meet you," Sandra says warmly, stepping forward to shake Olivia's hand, "Eli has told me so much about you."

She's grateful when Fitz steps in to her side, resting his hand against her lower back, bolstering her with his presence.

"It's nice that you both could make it," he says, rubbing her back soothingly, "We have plenty of food, there's beer, Liv made sangria, feel free to help yourselves."

Olivia watches the way her father's eyes immediately track across the yard and land on Micah, his face going soft and wistful in a way she's never seen before.

"Is that—is that the birthday boy over there?" he asks, hands in his pockets, uncharacteristically bashful.

"It is," Liv says softly, very aware of how emotionally charged the moment is, "I'm sure he won't mind if we interrupt him for a couple minutes, let's go say hi."

Fitz and Sandra thankfully buffer the group nicely as they walk across the spacious yard, making small talk about Fitz's garden. Predictably, as soon as Micah recognizes Olivia he starts babbling, still grinning while Karen pushes him gently.

" _Mama. Ma-ma-ma-Mama!_ "

"He's been going through a 'mommy' phase lately," Fitz explains, reaching out to hug his daughter, "Hey, kiddo. This is Olivia's dad, and his partner Sandra."

Olivia reaches out to stop the swing while they all exchange pleasantries.

" _Mama._ "

"You want Mommy?" Liv coos, holding her hands out when Micah reaches for her, "It's your birthday, you can have whatever you want."

She shifts him onto her hip and he's immediately content, leaning in to her cheek with his mouth open.

"Hey," she laughs, scrunching her face, "No eating Mommy. You're so silly. Hey, look, can you say hello?"

"Aren't you the _cutest_?" Sandra says, immediately stepping forward, "Look at those thighs, and those _cheeks,_ you're gorgeous. Olivia, he's beautiful."

"Thank you," she smiles, "We think he's pretty cute. Huh? You're pretty cute."

When she looks up she notices that her father is hanging back, watching them with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Hey, how about this guy?" Liv says softly, taking a few steps toward him, "What do you think of him?"

She glances at Fitz, and they wait with baited breath to see how Micah and Eli will react to one another.

In a burst of one-year-old excitement, Micah breaks the ice _beautifully_.

" _Eee-aaaah!_ "

The four of them dissolve into laughter as he shrieks, and Eli reaches out to touch Micah's hand.

"I don't know what that means," he laughs, gently shaking Micah's hand, "But it's very nice to finally meet you, young man."

" _No_ ," Liv groans, pressing a kiss into Micah's curls, "He's only one, don't start calling him young man. I'm having a hard enough time as it is."

Eli laughs, relaxing a bit, taking in his grandson for the first time. Micah's eyes widen at the sound of his deep, booming laugh, eyeing him curiously.

"Well, look at you," he says quietly, "If you aren't the spitting image of your mother."

"I've been saying that since the day he was born," Fitz chimes in, turning around to make sure the boys aren't hitting wiffle balls toward the house.

Liv directs Micah's attention back to the swingset. "Here, do you want to go back in the swing? Maybe Sandra wants to push you. Oh, you're fine, I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here!"

He protests briefly as she sits him back in the baby seat, fighting to get his legs through the slots for a second.

"Ready, here we go…whee!"

As soon as he starts to move he's happy again, holding on with both hands, grinning at all of them. However, in typical toddler fashion it's short-lived, and before long he's whimpering and reaching for Liv again.

"Okay, okay," she soothes, picking him up, "I don't mind the extra cuddles, but he's getting so heavy!"

"He must be taking after Fitz," Eli comments, eyes still glued to his grandson, "You've always been a petite little thing, ever since you were a baby."

It's strange to hear her father talk about her as a baby, because she can't remember ever talking about it with him before.

"He was on the smaller side when he was born, only six pounds eleven ounces."

Eli stares at her, smiling gently. "That's _exactly_ what you were."

"You remember that?" she breathes, surprised.

He looks at her strangely, shrugging. "Of course I do."

They both turn just in time to watch a rogue wiffle ball hit Fitz in the head, making him wince and call out.

" _Uh-oh_."

Micah's comment makes everyone laugh in surprise, once again buffering the moment.

* * *

After the all-important cake smash, Micah predictably gets a little overwhelmed, crying and trying to rub his eyes. Olivia scoops him up, excusing herself inside to clean him up.

She wipes him down, and they end up nursing in the living room at his request.

"There we go," she murmurs, rocking him in her lap, "That's better. Birthdays can be kind of exhausting when you're one, I know, baby."

He's not really hungry, nursing for comfort more than anything else, and he pulls away after just a few minutes.

"All done? Are you hot? It's warm outside. Here, go crawl around for a couple minutes, then we'll go back out."

As soon as he hits the floor he crawls toward his toy corner, pulling up on the wooden chest where they store his toys. Olivia crawls over too, opening it and pulling his favorites out. He goes for the wooden shape sorter first, shaking it until she dumps the pieces out for him.

"Here, try the circle, that's a good one."

Naturally, each piece goes into his mouth first, thoroughly investigated before he lets her help him find the right slot. She's so involved in playing with him, that she doesn't realize her father is standing awkwardly in the doorway until he clears his throat.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, "I—we're going to leave in a few minutes, and I wanted to say goodbye."

"Oh," Liv says awkwardly, passing Micah the triangle, "Okay. Well, thanks for coming, it was—um, it was great that you came."

Eli nods, giving Micah one last look before he starts to turn away. Something in his eyes tugs at her, and before she realizes what she's doing—

"Dad."

He turns around, raising his eyebrows in question.

"Why don't you—you don't have to leave so soon, if you don't want to. You haven't even really gotten to see him…come play with him for a little while."

Instantly, he looks so grateful that it takes her breath away. "Can I?"

"Sure," she says, smiling gently, "Come join us."

Eli comes over to sit with them, and she has to stifle a laugh at the image of her father on her living room floor.

She's not sure she's _ever_ seen him sit on the floor before.

"What are we playing?"

"We're sorting shapes," she says, adjusting the square Micah's waving around so that it fits into the sorter, "He can't really do it yet, he mainly chews on the blocks, but he likes when you help him."

"What else does he like?"

When she looks up, she barely recognizes him. He looks so much older, suddenly, like…like a grandfather trying to know his grandson.

"Tell me about him," he requests softly, looking at her earnestly.

"Well," she breathes, suddenly unsure of how to describe the little miracle sitting in front of her, "He likes crawling around, trying to get into things he's not supposed to have."

"That sounds about right," he laughs, helping Micah sort the rectangle.

Olivia smiles at her son, reaching out to smoothe his curls. "He's…he's sweet. He's a really sweet boy, he loves to snuggle, and laugh, it's easy to make him smile. He loves food, in all forms, we've yet to find a fruit that he doesn't like but I think blueberries are his favorite. He really likes to practice walking, and he's _close_ , but he hasn't taken any steps yet. He loves being with Fitz all day, but usually when I come home he's pretty demanding of my attention, which I don't mind. He's amazing."

Eli doesn't say anything, nodding along as she talks, watching Micah play.

"Thank you, for letting me meet him," he says finally, looking at her with so much honesty.

Her chest tightens unexpectedly, and she has to clear her throat. "You're welcome."

They watch Micah grab his stacking cups and dump them out.

"Oh, are we going to stack the cups now?" Eli asks him, picking the largest one and turning it right side up, "Which one do you want to put in next?"

"So, you're retired?" she asks abruptly, before she can stop herself.

"I am," he nods, handing Micah the right cup, "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

Her gaze snaps up to his, but he doesn't look sinister, just thoughtful.

"You know," she states.

"That Fitz has been having me followed? Of course I do."

Olivia shakes her head in disbelief.

 _Of course_.

"Why didn't you do anything about it? It's been a year."

"Because I knew that if I ever wanted to meet my grandson, I needed to prove myself. Those pictures don't lie, Olivia. I _am_ retired. I'm…Sandra and I, we keep to ourselves now, and we like it that way. I know you must have had some confidence in that, otherwise we wouldn't be here, but I want you to know, I'm no threat to you. I promise."

"You can't just say that, like your word suddenly means something," she sighs, crossing her legs as Micah starts to climb on her.

He crawls into her lap, trying to pull up to stand until she takes his hands to give him some leverage. As soon as he's upright he giggles, so proud of himself.

"Yay!" she cheers softly, shaking him to make him laugh harder.

She helps him walk over to the couch, watching as he grabs on and starts to walk along it.

"If anything _ever_ happened to him, because of _you_ —" she starts, suddenly breathless with how protective she feels.

"—I would never forgive myself," Eli finishes, looking equally as emotional.

They stare at each other for a few moments.

As different as they are, they're cut from the same cloth and it doesn't take much for them to understand each other perfectly.

Eli doesn't look away until she does, maintaining eye contact until she relaxes, nodding once. They watch Micah walk along the couch, his tongue sticking out in concentration.

"His middle name is Pope."

She's not sure why that's suddenly important, but it feels like the right thing to say. Eli's smile confirms that she's right.

* * *

That night, Fitz glances at the clock on his bedside table, closing his laptop when he realizes she's been gone for over thirty minutes.

Padding slowly down the hallway, he peeks into Micah's room.

 _Should have known…_

She's still rocking him, even though he's fast asleep, content in her arms with his cheek pressed into her chest.

"Hey," she says softly, realizing he's standing in the doorway.

"I just wondered where you were," he smiles, coming over to kneel next to her.

They watch Micah sleep, listening to his deep belly breaths.

"You let him nurse to sleep, didn't you?" Fitz accuses playfully, keeping his voice low and soft.

"Hush. My baby is a toddler now, I needed a moment, and he had a long day. Back to putting him down 'awake but drowsy' tomorrow, I promise," she sighs, quoting their sleep training book of choice.

"He's changed _so much_ since he was born, hasn't he?"

"He has," she murmurs, "He's so big now."

"He still has those giant brown eyes, he's so gorgeous. His skin has deepened a little bit too, I'm glad he's not going to be pasty like me."

She laughs quietly, standing up slowly. "Yeah, well, If I ever catch you _not_ putting sunscreen on him, I'll hurt you."

Fitz smiles, watching her lower Micah into his crib, tucking his favorite stuffed turtle into the crook of his arm.

"You did a good thing for him today," he says, pulling her into his side.

She doesn't say anything, leaning against him, humming softly.

"Goodnight, pumpkin. Love you," she whispers, lingering by the railing for a few seconds.

* * *

"Do you think it's weird that I want to keep nursing?"

They're finally in bed, both still up reading.

"No," he answers immediately, furrowing his brows, "Of course not. I want you to do whatever you're comfortable with, and whatever you think he's ready for. It's—that's _your_ special relationship with him, only you know what's right."

"I just feel like there's pressure to stop, now that he's one," she sighs, "But…I also feel like he still needs that time with me, and honestly _I_ still need that time with _him_. I love nursing him, and he hasn't shown any signs of wanting to stop. Not to mention, he doesn't seem to be a huge fan of cow's milk or anything else we've given him in a sippy cup."

Fitz nods in agreement, smirking. "Yeah, he does that thing where he just opens his mouth and lets it all dribble out."

"And it's not just hydration and calories, I've read that he's still getting antibodies, which is great. I just don't think he's ready to stop altogether. And we're only nursing in the morning, and before bed, and sometimes on the weekends—"

He leans forward to interrupt her. "—Liv, I don't care if you nurse him for another month, or another six months, or another year, as long as you both _want_ to keep doing it. I get plenty of bonding time with him during the day, but I know you miss him. He misses you too, I'm not surprised that he still wants quiet time with you. He's a year old, but in the grand scheme of life he's still just a baby."

"You don't—you don't feel like—"

Olivia stops, looking unsure of what she's trying to ask him.

"I don't what?" he prods, gently.

"You don't mind that you're still…I don't know, _sharing_ with him? You don't feel like he's too attached to me?"

"Have you been reading message boards again?" he asks, narrowing his eyes.

She looks down into her lap. "What? I mean—"

"Have I ever said, or done, anything to make you think I want you to stop?"

"No, but—"

"Look at me," he requests, softly.

He waits for her to meet his eyes, reaching over to rest his hand on her knee. Immediately, he can see through to her insecurity, that her questions aren't about breastfeeding at all.

"I _love_ how attached he is to you. Watching you be a mom for the past year, has been one of the greatest joys of my life. You're not only a mom, you're an _incredible_ mom, and he is so lucky to have you. He's going to grow up so secure and supported because of you, and he will _never_ doubt how loved he is. I trust you, okay? If you think something's right for him, then it is."

Instantly, she finds herself blinking away tears.

"Um, okay, good," she breathes, clearing her throat.

"And to answer your other question, I think _I_ should be asking _you_ if you mind all the sharing. They're _your_ real estate," he grins, sliding his hands around her waist, his gaze traveling down to her chest.

Olivia laughs softly, shifting closer to him. "No, I don't mind."

"Good. That's all I care about."

Her hands cradle his jaw, and she looks at him gratefully for a moment, silently thanking him for the reassurance.

Humming with contentment, she leans in to kiss him. "You're really sexy when you're being supportive."

"Well," he murmurs, nudging her back against the pillows, "That _is_ my goal, to seduce you with supportiveness."

"Do the thing," she breathes, settling underneath him, resting her hands over his biceps.

He grins and bites his bottom lip, arms flexing as he holds himself over her. Something about the way he stalks her from above always makes her melt, and she's already breathless when he leans down, nuzzling his nose with hers, rubbing their lips together. He's almost lazy as he kisses her, dragging his lips over hers, plying her mouth open with his tongue. His hands slip underneath her shirt, cupping her breasts as they kiss, thumbs rubbing circles against her sensitive nipples.

"I've gotta say, in terms of real estate—"

"— _please_ don't make a corny boob joke right now," she moans, arching into him.

"Fine, geez. _Mmm_ …"

* * *

 **A/N: WHEW. That one took a lot out of me. Let me know your thoughts! Thank you for reading!**


	38. What Now?

**A/N: I've been obsessed with the song What Now? by Rihanna lately, and this little Olivia headcanon fic popped into my head. It's post-6x09.**

* * *

The steam in the shower is so thick, she can barely see.

The water is scalding, uncomfortable, and still, it's not hot enough.

 _I've been ignoring this big lump in my throat_

 _I shouldn't be crying,_

 _tears were for the weaker days_

 _I'm stronger now, or so I say,_

 _But something's_ _ **missing**_

This is why she can't hug him, because he's _on_ her now. His cologne, his conditioner, the hand cream he'll never admit he uses religiously, and… _his_ scent; the scent that's so deeply ingrained into her memory she doesn't think she'll ever be free of it. He smells like home, and love, and safety, like all of the things she gave up when she walked away from him.

It's better if she doesn't remember, because when she does it's too much.

It's easier to pretend she doesn't know what she's missing.

 _I found the one, he changed my life_

 _But was it me that changed_

 _And he just happened to come at the right time_

 _I'm_ _ **supposed**_ _to be in love_

 _But I'm numb_ _ **again**_

Her breath is coming too quickly, she realizes it, but she can't stop it. As soon as she'd stepped into his arms, her body had gone into overdrive, every nerve ending suddenly alive. It's been so long since anyone's touched her, even longer without the kind of tenderness he'd held her with. He holds her like she's precious, he always has.

Her body betrays her every time.

Everything inside of her cries out for him. They're _right_ together, she's _supposed_ to be with him, it's not supposed to be this hard. They weren't supposed to let circumstance derail everything, fate was supposed to win.

Instead, her back is against a wall.

She has two options where he's concerned; she has to fall into him, let him fill her up and surround her, or she has to be numb. Being numb is easier, until she realizes _how_ numb she is, and then the loss is the worst pain she's ever felt.

 _Whatever it is,_

 _it feels like it's laughing at me through the glass of a two-sided mirror_

 _Whatever it is,_

 _ **it's just laughing at me**_

 _And I just wanna scream_

 _What now_ _ **?**_ _I just can't figure it out_

She leans her forehead against the wall of the shower for a moment, chest heaving.

Why are being _with_ him, and _without_ him, both impossible?

What is she supposed to do?

 _ **There's no one to call**_ _'cause I'm just playing games with them all_

 _The more I swear I'm happy, the more that I'm feeling alone_

It's getting harder to be alone, not easier.

What if she can't be alone?

She can't be with someone either, clearly, she doesn't have anything to offer. She's not worthy, not good enough, not vulnerable enough.

 _'Cause I spend every hour just going through the motions_

 _ **I can't even get the emotions to come out**_

 _Dry as a bone, but I just wanna shout_

She feels like she should be crying, missing him is choking her, making her ache, making her want to crawl out of her skin.

She _wants_ to cry, to release it all somehow, but the tears won't come. Her body has forgotten how to cry, she's been numb for so long.

He may think she's climbed out of one hole, but she's fallen into another, and she may never get out.

* * *

 **A/N: I haven't written too much current canon Olivia because I feel so sad for her. I'm also not totally sure who she is now, as of 6x09, and that makes her hard to write. But this song really described what she could be feeling perfectly, in my opinion, so I went with it. Let me know what you think!**


	39. Will You Love Me?

**A/N: This is post-6x10, after their kiss in the alternate universe...**

* * *

" _I missed you…_ "

"… _missed you…oh…I want you…_ "

"… _want you…god, I love you…_ "

The envelope with the pictures of their new townhouse lays forgotten on the floor.

It's not about the house, not really.

It's about what the house represents. It's her way of jumping off the cliff into his arms, her way of showing him she's all in, like he is. For once, they've met each other in the middle and it's the most beautiful feeling.

Fitz kisses her back into the bedroom, squeezing her close, holding on to her like he's afraid she might slip away.

"… _thought I lost you…_ "

"… _never…that will never happen…love you too much…_ "

They quickly rid each other of their clothes, crawling into bed, fitting themselves together with familiarity. Finally, they take a moment to breathe, and she cradles his face, tenderly brushing tears away with her thumb.

"Shh…don't," Liv soothes, fingers stroking through his hair, "We're okay. We'll _be_ okay."

He clears his throat, pressing his nose to her cheek, nuzzling his lips against her skin. "I've waited forever for you, my whole life. Can't lose you."

Her breath catches as he starts to drag warm, open-mouthed kisses over her neck. "You think I don't feel the same way? I can't be without you, now that I know how things can be, _how…oh…baby, love you…_ "

"… _Livvie…_ "

It's been a long five, nearly six, months of sleeping next to one another without touching. They're so magnetic, it's painful to keep themselves apart, and they spend some time using their hands, kissing and tracing flushed, heated skin. She loves to feel his arms, his back, smooth skin over firm muscle. He makes her feel so safe, nothing can get to her when she's wrapped up in him.

His mouth finds her breasts, and he rubs his lips against the skin below her nipples, the place he's discovered is the softest part of her whole body. He kisses her there, biting gently, dragging her nipple between his teeth to make her gasp, moaning when she starts to tug on the curls at the nape of his neck.

"Don't _do_ that," he growls playfully, taking her hands and pinning them above her head.

"Why?" she teases, smiling against his mouth.

"Because," he murmurs, lacing their fingers together, "You know that drives me insane, and I don't want to rush. I want to make love to my wife."

Hearing him call her his wife never gets old.

It's special every single time, remembering that they _belong_ to each other now.

"She wants you to make love to her," she whispers, smiling into his kiss, wrapping her legs around his hips.

" _Fuck…I wanna be inside you…_ "

She whimpers when he grinds his erection against her core. " _Yes…_ "

"But, I can wait," he teases, starting to kiss his way down her body.

Laughing breathlessly, she tangles her fingers in his curls, arching into the pressure of his mouth. He takes his time; kissing every rib, swirling his tongue against the sensitive one that makes her writhe and moan, cradling her hips while he presses hot kisses against her low belly.

"We should make a baby, soon," Liv sighs softly, acting as if she's just told him they should ' _make a pizza soon_ 'when he looks up at her in surprise.

"Really?"

"Mmm-hmm…I'm not getting any younger, and _you're_ already old. You still want to, don't you?"

The look on his face tells her everything she needs to know, and the way he kisses her stomach makes her chest heave with emotion.

"I'm going to let the ' _old_ ' comment slide," he murmurs, still kissing around her bellybutton, "But, _yes_ , I want to have a baby with you."

"Well, we're not going to make any babies doing this… _ungh, oh my god_ —"

Fitz grins against her clit at the way she loses it when he starts to go down on her, humming low in his chest.

"Do you want me to stop?"

" _No_ ," she whimpers, letting him nudge her thighs further apart, " _No, no, no_ …"

She'd never _dream_ of telling him to stop, not when this has practically become a sacred act between them. He takes so much pleasure and pride in making her come this way, and somehow he seems to get even _better_ at it over time. Just when she thinks he can't possibly make her feel any more cherished, he finds a spot, or a rhythm, that even _she_ hasn't discovered after thirty-four years. She never even has time to think when his mouth is on her, because he knows what she needs before she does, he knows what will feel good far before she can even ask for it.

Her body tenses as she comes, panting and crying out, arching her back. The muscles in her core flutter with relief, clenching rhythmically around his fingers, and he gently sucks on her clit, moving with her until she pushes him away.

"I missed that so much," she moans, wrapping her arms around his neck, trying to catch her breath.

He's licked her from his lips, but she can still taste herself on his tongue when they kiss, and he lets her be in control for a moment. She gently tugs on his hair to angle him the way she wants, sweeping her tongue into his mouth, listening to his labored breath.

"I missed watching you come," he murmurs, breathing hotly against her ear, "The way you shake, the way I can feel how strong you are when your belly tenses up. Those little moans you make when you're getting too sensitive."

The tip of his erection is teasing her, nudging up against her core.

" _Make love to me…I want to make love with my husband…_ "

Finally, he presses inside her, rocking in and out, slipping in further each time. They make little adjustments, settling him in just the right way, sighing when they get it _just_ right. He leans his forehead against hers, thrusting gently, catching her moans in his mouth. She uses her fingertips to massage his back, trailing her hands down to his ass, pulling him in a little further.

He starts to groan softly, lengthening his strokes when he feels another rush of moisture, putting more weight behind his thrusts.

" _Yes, baby…yes…yes…_ "

She can't catch her breath, whimpering and sobbing as she lifts her hips to meet his. Her hands cup his face, holding him close while they move together, trying to keep her eyes open through furrowed brows. Eventually he buries his face in her neck, concentrating on the angle of his thrusts until he finds the spot that makes her moan; not her usual soft moan, a deeper, throatier moan, the kind of moan that lets him know he's going to make her come.

He pulls her left leg up into the crook of his arm, cradling her against him.

"… _baby…want you to come with me…_ "

"… _touch yourself…_ "

She slips her hand between them to rub her clit, arching and crying out almost immediately. As soon as he feels her start to come he thrusts hard, letting go, groaning into her neck over and over.

* * *

They take a quick shower together, rinsing away the sweat, and the remnants of their first rocky patch as a married couple. He won't let her put anything but underwear on, so she climbs into bed topless, tucking herself into his arms.

His skin is warm against hers and she sighs, nosing her way into the crook of his neck.

"Mmm…'m tired," she mumbles, wrapping her arm around his chest, "You smell good."

He's quiet, absently stroking his fingers up and down her back. She can tell he's not asleep, that he's contemplative, and she props herself up on his chest. He meets her eyes, smiling gently with furrowed brows, looking like he has something on the tip of his tongue.

"Will you still love me if I don't want to change the world?"

Her heart squeezes painfully.

"Of course I will," she whispers, stroking his cheek with her thumb, "You're my husband. I want you to be happy, whatever that looks like for you."

"You sure?"

She slides up to kiss him, long and soft. "I love you, no matter what. I'm sorry I ever made you feel like that wasn't true."

"I'm not continuing the Grant Report, but—I don't know if I want to start teaching—"

"—you would be an amazing teacher—"

"—or, I…I honestly might want to stay home with our baby. Do the stay-at-home Dad thing for a while."

Her eyes warm. "I wouldn't want anyone else taking care of our child, when I go back to work."

Fitz sighs, drawing her even closer. "I'm already so happy, personally. I want to be happy professionally too, doing something _I_ want to do."

"I'm here, Fitz," she murmurs, "I support you, whatever you want to do. I love _you_ , not your career."

"Promise?" he smiles, brushing curls away from her face, really believing her this time.

"I _promise_."

* * *

 **A/N: Oh my gosh you guys, so FUN to write them in this universe. I hope you liked it! Let me know what you thought!**


	40. Livvie

**A/N: This is immediately post-6x11, right after the door closes...**

* * *

" _You found a way…you found a way…you did it….you foun—_ "

" _Shh…_ "

Fitz shushes her gently, pulling her body against his after the bedroom door closes.

" _Thank you…you—_ "

" _Shh…_ "

" _Mmm…oh, god…_ "

For a while, they're lost.

They don't think, they just kiss, and feel, lost in sensation. The only things she's cognizant of are his scent, the hard lines of his body where they press into her curves, the way his hands cradle her close.

"Liv, are you sure? We don't ev—"

"Shut up and kiss me," she whimpers, writhing in his lap, "Need you."

" _Fuck…need you…_ "

" _Touch me…ha…please…_ "

" _Shh…_ "

It's quick, and frantic, full of teeth and nails, breathless and hot. They don't even get undressed, pulling her underwear to the side to get him inside of her as fast as they can.

She rides him hard, on the sofa; moaning into his mouth, letting him pull her hair and scratch her hips. They're loud, so wrapped up in the unexpectedness of it all that he comes before she can, groaning into her neck. Everything is so tense, so emotional that she can't yet, and she's happy to feel him get some relief, holding him against her while they move together through his orgasm.

"… _m'sorry…fuck, you feel so good…_ "

"Don't," Liv murmurs breathlessly, rocking in his lap, " _S'okay…you know it is…_ "

"… _you feel so good…Liv…_ "

"… _stop calling me that…_ _ **say it**_ _…_ "

He sighs against her skin, lips curving into a smile, tongue sliding out to trace a path along her collarbone. His lips settle against her ear, his semi-soft erection still nestled inside of her.

" _Livvie_."

Her answering moan is pained, and she grinds down against him, clenching her muscles.

"Wanna make you come," he whispers, sliding his hands underneath her top, "Relax…"

Moments later they're on the floor, and she's giggling quietly at the way his clothes are hanging open, pants and boxers around his thighs.

"What are you laughing at, pretty girl?" he grins, peeling the rest of her clothes away.

"You just look like someone had their way with you, is all."

"Mmm…we'd better make sure I'm not the only one."

She pushes his shirt off, panting softly as his hands trace torturous patterns over her belly. He hooks his fingers through the sides of her panties with practiced ease, pulling them off. Kneeling between her thighs, he possessively slides two fingers through her slick folds, rubbing her clit, watching her shake and arch.

" _I miss you._ "

"I know you do," he growls, fingers teasing her with slow, hard circles, "No one knows how to touch you like I do."

" _No one…_ "

She's reaching for him, so he lets her pull him close, biting and sucking at her bottom lip. He presses his fingers inside her and she convulses, sobbing against his mouth, her breath choppy and uneven. He can feel her unraveling, another flood of moisture coating his fingers, her nails digging into his arms.

"That's it," he whispers, rubbing her clit with his thumb, "Come, Livvie. Just let go."

Her whole body is tense, thighs trembling, brows furrowed in concentration. But she doesn't come, not yet.

She's thinking too much.

An anguished, breathless sound flies out of her mouth. " _Can't…_ "

"Shh," he soothes, nuzzling her neck, realizing he needs to be a little gentler with her, that she's even more wound up than he'd realized, "Shh, shh…"

"I need you," she whimpers, desperately pulling him closer, "I need you, I need you, I'm sorry, I wa—god, _I need you_."

Tears burn his eyes, because the way she's begging for him has nothing to do with sex. She's telling him that she _needs_ him, she needs him to walk through life with her, she _wants_ him to. She's finally admitting it to herself, terrified that he doesn't want her anymore.

He eases his fingers from inside her, slipping his hands underneath her back to lift her into his lap. She wraps her legs around his hips, her arms around his shoulders, snuggling her face into his neck, trying to catch her breath.

"You have me," he murmurs, rubbing his hands over her back, "Do you believe me yet? Because I can't go through this again. _You have me._ "

She rests her forehead against his, nodding, cradling his face. " _I'm sorry_."

"Don't be sorry," he croaks, making her look at him, swallowing around the lump in his throat, "Be _better_. Promise me."

Olivia kisses him, a long, soft press that takes his breath away. Her eyes stay open, big, soulful pools of molten chocolate, naked emotion reflected in them.

"I promise," she whispers, voice shaking, chin trembling, "I promise. I love you."

"I love you, too… _Livvie…we can't—I can't, again_ —"

"— _we won't._ "

She makes a desperate sound as they start to kiss again, and it pulls him back to her physical need, makes him want to take care of her.

"I've got you. I'm yours," he murmurs, holding her close.

Their hips are starting to rock together, and he's hard again, swelling between them. He palms her hips and lifts her, groaning when she strokes him a few times before she lines them up.

" _Baby…_ "

This time she sinks into him, finally relaxing, moaning against his neck as he stretches her. Her muscles start to flutter almost immediately, and she whimpers into their kiss, lifting her hands to cup the back of his neck.

"There you go…come for me, sweetheart."

And she does.

She tips over the edge and shatters around him, letting him hold her and coax her through wave after wave. Her orgasm feels like it goes on forever, she can't remember the last time she's had one so intense, and when it's finally over her forehead drops to his shoulder, chest heaving.

* * *

They make love right there on the floor, with open eyes and wandering hands, soft sighs and deep moans. He rocks her in his lap until she comes again, shaking, whimpering, clinging to his shoulders; and then he flips her down onto the floor and fucks into her harder, deeper, letting her push him over the edge with her mouth against his ear, her hands over his ass.

When they've recovered enough, she tugs him onto the couch.

"C'mere," he sighs, wrapping her in his arms, pulling a blanket over them.

She hums quietly, burrowing into his chest. "Tighter."

He adjusts his arms, squeezing her closer, breathing in the scent of her hair. "Mmm. Missed you."

"I could tell," she smiles, making him grin sleepily because it's such a _'Livvie'_ thing to say.

 _She's coming back to him_

"You don't have anything else you want to say to me?" he teases, pressing his lips to her forehead.

One of her hands comes up to cover his cheek, angling him down to meet her glassy eyes.

"I missed being ' _Livvie'_ ," she whispers, tracing his lips with her thumb, "I want to be her. For you. For _me_."

"You _are_ ," he breathes, pulling her in close again, "You are, Livvie. Always."

* * *

 **A/N: My take on this post-ep. I had a lot feels, lol. Let me know what you thought!**


	41. It's Ours

**A/N: Post-6x12...**

* * *

After the bunker, she heads over to the Residence to update Fitz.

She's dead on her feet, completely exhausted, but she wants to see him anyway.

Olivia wanders through the living space, into the bedroom, and out into the hallway where she can hear water running. She walks down to the bathroom, pushing the door open to find him bent over the bathtub, testing the water temperature, glass of scotch in hand.

"Fitz?"

The lights are dim, he's lit a few candles, and she spots a glass of red wine on the far edge of the tub.

"Taking a bath?" she smirks, watching him straighten up and raise his eyebrows at her.

"No, you are."

She sighs, breathing in the lavender oil he's added to the water. "You didn't need to do this. I'm fine—"

"You're tired, and stressed, and I want to take care of you," he states, quietly, matter-of-factly, fixing her with a stare.

It's almost like he's challenging her, waiting to see if she'll let him.

After a few moments, her eyes soften, because a bath _does_ sound nice.

Slowly, she walks to stand in front of him, reaching out to take his hands. She guides them to the buttons of her blazer, letting go when he steps in and starts to undress her. He feels her exhale, and when he glances down, her face is open, relaxed.

The care he takes with her pretty, expensive clothing makes her smile.

She lets him carefully remove each piece, folding it and placing it on the vanity for safekeeping. When she's just in her bra and panties he pauses, opening a drawer and handing her a clip. While she sweeps her hair up, he surprises her by pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, and turning to leave.

"Aren't you getting in with me?"

He stops, turning around to face her again, hands in his pockets. "Do you want me to?"

He's put upon, and he has every right to be. She's treated him horribly today, like their night together meant nothing.

Olivia crosses to him, tentatively reaching out to touch his lapels, fingering the tiny, hand-sewn stitches.

"Of course I do," she murmurs, looking up into his eyes, trying to tell him she's sorry, that what they did wasn't a mistake.

Fitz takes a deep breath, brows slightly creased, and then nods, inadvertently glancing down her body.

"Go ahead," he says softly, "I'll be right there."

He takes a step back and starts to unbutton his shirt, toeing his shoes off in the process, watching as she steps back over to the vanity and unhooks her bra. Liv glances over at him, her breath hitching when she sees that he's not even trying to hide the fact that he's watching her, running his eyes over her lazily as he removes his own clothing. His gaze goes to her breasts as soon as she peels her bra off, and she turns around to slip her thong down her legs.

 _He's missed looking at her._

The bath is full, so she turns the water off before she steps in, settling down into the hot, scented water. She looks up just in time to watch him kick his boxers to the side, doing her own lazy perusal over his muscled chest, across the vee of his hips, down to where his cock hangs soft and smooth between strong thighs.

 _She's missed looking at him._

"Where do you want me?" he shrugs, standing next to the bathtub, still not being entirely warm toward her.

Wordlessly, she sits up and leans forward, inviting him to sit behind her. When he's settled, she lays back into his arms, tipping her head to rest against his shoulder. Immediately, he reaches for their drinks, handing her the glass of wine. Liv takes a sip and closes her eyes, letting his solid presence soothe her nerves.

They drink and breathe for long minutes, enjoying the dim light, the silence.

"Water feels good," she admits quietly, sipping her wine, "I'm…last night, I haven't done that in a while. I'm sore."

He tenses imperceptibly behind her. "I didn't—did I?"

"No," she says quickly, reassuring him, "I mean, a little, but, in a good way, trust me. I mostly meant my arms, my legs, _those_ muscles."

"Good," he murmurs, relaxing again, "Me too. I haven't—not like that. It's always different with you."

Olivia tries and fails not to feel a sense of pride at knowing sex with Angela hadn't been as good, although she knows firsthand that nothing compares, no one is ever the same. It's satisfying to know he feels the same way.

"Do you regret it?"

"No."

He answers her immediately, simply, because he'll never regret making love to her.

Never.

But, he doesn't ask her the same question, wanting to pretend he doesn't care about her response.

"I don't either."

He _does_ care, and hearing her admit that she doesn't regret it either makes his heart jump.

 _Damnit_.

He's _helpless_ around her.

Something about not having to look him in the eye makes her brave, and he realizes sitting this way, it's almost like they're on the phone. He decides to test her, see if he can get her talking.

"So, your father was even more of a jerk than usual today," he tosses out casually, pretending it's just another day, holding his breath.

She hums in agreement, taking a long sip of wine, nodding her head. "That he was."

There's a long pause, and then he feels her take a breath.

"Did you save him because you thought it would win me back?"

He scoffs, taking a sip of scotch. "No. I do shit like that for you all the time, you've never swooned over it before."

His flippant response catches her off guard, and she laughs in surprise. "That's true. I don't know what came over me."

Fitz chuckles darkly, shaking his head.

"Is this bathtub _heated_?" she asks suddenly, looking around them.

"Yeah," he nods, reaching out to flip up a hidden panel, revealing temperature controls.

"Well, damn. It's like you're important or something."

He laughs in spite of himself, because she's so fucking cute sometimes. After a moment, he sets his empty scotch glass down, sighing.

"I would rather have that bastard under my roof than see you go to prison. I saw a way out, for both of us, and I took it. That's why I did it. I did it because I still fucking love you, okay?"

Her smile fades, and she quickly drains the last of her wine, handing the glass to him over her shoulder. She nestles closer, turning her face into his neck.

" _Okay_."

They're quiet for a while after that, slowly unwinding, letting the hot water soothe away stress and tension. She gradually melts back against him, encouraging him to wind his arms around her, running the tips of her fingers over his forearms.

She hums quietly, her breaths slow and even. "I needed this. Today was…I needed this."

Her father's words are still echoing through his head, and he holds her tighter, remembering the way she couldn't even look at him afterward.

"What he said, your father—I don't want you to internalize that any more than you probably already have—"

Liv shifts in his arms, not wanting to think about it. "Fitz, you don't have to—"

"—no, I need to say this. I need to say it, and you need to hear it, whether you think so or not. I don't look at you that way. I've _never_ looked at you that way, I want you to know that. No matter what we do, whether it's—touching you is a privilege, for me, always. Whether we're fucking something out, or making love, or half-asleep, or on the phone, I've _never_ —it's always special. Okay?"

She can't speak, overwhelmed by how badly she's needed to hear that, without even realizing it. He feels her nod against his shoulder, hears her drawing uneven breaths and knows that she's crying, that it hurts to remember her father's words. She turns her face away from him, and he lets her hide, pressing his lips to her temple, resting them next to her ear.

"You are incredible. You're a beautiful, _incredible_ , tornado of a woman," he whispers, kissing her shoulder affectionately.

"Stop," she begs, her breath catching on that one syllable.

"Mmm-mmm," he refuses, kissing her temple again, "Not tonight, not ever. I will _never_ stop telling you how amazing you are."

Her chest hitches softly, hands gripping his forearms. "I'm not. I'm broken."

"S'okay," he whispers, holding her tighter, "We're all a little broken, Livvie. Makes us human."

"You're not."

"Of course I am. You broke me. Mellie broke me. My father broke me. I was broken for a long time, until I realized the only way to put yourself back together is to…stop trying so hard. Stop trying to go back, take the pieces and make something new."

She takes a deep breath, letting his words sink in for a moment. "That makes _no_ sense."

Fitz laughs quietly, kissing her neck, sinking deeper into the water. "It will, someday."

"What are you, Yoda?" she sniffles, laughing a little bit.

"Nope, but I've served two terms as President of the United States. Gives me infinite wisdom."

"Oh, it does, does it?"

"Yup."

"Good to know."

They both chuckle softly, and Olivia turns her face back toward him, pressing her forehead against his neck. After few seconds, she turns in his arms, straddling his lap and pressing their lips together.

"For the record," she murmurs, kissing him softly, "I've never felt like you don't respect me. Not once."

His hands start to wander over her skin. "Good."

"Even though you were married, I never felt…"

 _Cheap._

They both pause, understanding exactly what she isn't saying, what her father seems to _constantly_ try to insert into her psyche.

"You never feel that way, because you're not. We're more than that, always. And _that's_ our truth. We _know_ what our truth is," he whispers, gently cradling her face.

"You make me feel so good," she breathes, closing her eyes, like she's been so afraid to say it out loud that the relief is palpable, "You make me feel like _me_. You make me feel smart, and beautiful, and sexy, and—a thousand other things."

"You don't need me, to feel any of that. You _are_ all of those things."

She shakes her head, pressing closer to him. "I need you. I want you."

"You have me," he murmurs, brushing his lips against hers, "You have _this_. You just have to show me you want it. _You have to take it_."

Her eyes meet his and he can see the determination in them, her resolve to live the life _she_ wants.

"I know I said I was sore, but don't go easy on me," she whispers, nipping his bottom lip.

He grins against her mouth, rocking his hips up against her.

* * *

 **A/N: Hopefully the inspiration for post-eps continues! I love writing them! Let me know your thoughts...**


	42. Raw

**A/N: I don't really know what to say about this...lol. I think it qualifies as PWP. It's post 6x13...**

* * *

They sleep.

She waits for him, stays awake with him.

After nearly thirty-six hours, as soon as it's feasible, as soon as he's allowed, they climb into bed.

Automatically, they intertwine, seeking comfort and solace, drifting off easily.

They sleep.

But when he wakes up, he _wants_ her.

She's warm and soft, wearing his clothes, in his bed, and he _wants_ her.

Before his eyes are even open, his mouth, his hands find her skin.

She wakes up to his lips on her neck, his fingers on her nipples, his erection against her hip. She doesn't know what time it is, and she doesn't care, she just wants him, wants to feel him.

She's not sure how long he's been touching her, but she's already flushed, hands shaking, hips writhing softly, and sometimes she _forgets_.

Not completely, never, but sometimes the memory dulls, in the in-betweens, until…

She whimpers, begging.

It's only been days, but it's been _months_ , over a year, and she's missed him.

" _Fuck me._ "

Hearing her say those words, in _that_ tone, makes him _burn,_ and he immediately starts tugging at her clothes, getting her naked. She's ready for him, a trail of sticky wetness clinging to her panties as he pulls them down, making him salivate.

He could lick her, bury his tongue inside of her, make her come in seconds, he knows, but he doesn't.

It's not the time.

They need _this_ more.

Their lips come together, finally, and it slows them down for a second.

Just a second, while they breathe and let their tongues tangle, while she pushes his underwear off.

" _So wet for you, just—_ "

" _Fuck…_ "

She's _soaked_ , silky and hot and tight around his cock as he presses inside her.

He groans into her neck, pulling her thighs around his hips, pushing against her with his weight.

" _Baby…_ "

" _Missed you_."

He feels so good, solid on top of her, thick inside of her.

She whimpers again, flexing her hips as he inches further.

" _More."_

She pants as he presses deep, wrapping her arms around his neck, moaning when she feels his tip against her womb.

He grinds his hips in slow, slow circles, massaging her walls, her clit, mindful of how sensitive she is when he's this deep inside of her.

She doesn't always want it like this, but sometimes…

" _Missed you…missed you…_ "

Sometimes when she's barely awake, she just wants him to overwhelm her, wants to stay in the place where there's only touch, only his voice in her ear.

He's not talking to her now but he's groaning softly, pressing his length against all the right places, against every nerve ending between her thighs.

She tangles her fingers in his hair, holding her breath as he pulls back an inch, gently thrusts forward an inch, and then keeps circling his hips.

 _It's so much_.

The pressure, the sparks of intense pleasure-pain every time he thrusts, it's overwhelming enough that everything else goes away. Her eyes stay closed and nothing else exists, just him, just the sound of their moans.

He's so, _so_ patient, keeping up his pattern, his rhythm, until she's come twice around him.

Her cries echo against the ceiling, her muscles squeezing and pulsing, her nails digging into his ass, but he doesn't let up.

As she comes down for the second time, he feels water on her cheeks, pulls his face from her neck to kiss the tears away. She cries during sex, sometimes, when it's intense like this, when she's really given herself over to it, when it's especially raw.

" _Don't stop. You feel so good."_

He doesn't stop, but he's going to have to soon because he's _aching_ , throbbing, and he wishes he could make her come ten more times like this but he knows that he can't. He won't make it.

And when she comes for a third time, he has to let go, he has to follow her. He comes in long, hot spurts, growling against her mouth, rocking his hips back into her palms.

When they've caught their breath, she cups his jaw, gazing at him with half-closed, sex drunk eyes, pulling him into a kiss.

Their kisses are lazy and wet, slippery tongues and open mouths.

" _Love you…love you…_ "

She's whispering it between kisses, making his heart thud in his chest. She's been whispering it a lot lately, and he's not sure what's changed, what's made it easier for her to tell him, but he's not questioning it.

"I love you," he murmurs, nuzzling her cheek, smoothing the hair away from her face.

Finally, he eases himself out of her slowly, gently, mindful of her sensitive, swollen lips. She whimpers anyway when the head of his cock slips free, and he shushes her, murmuring apologies that make her raise a finger to his lips.

They've made a mess of each other, and he presses one more kiss to her mouth before he hands her a few tissues and disappears toward the bathroom.

She feels boneless, sinking back into the mattress, not getting much further than tucking the tissues between her thighs. Her heart rate is still slowing, and she keeps her eyes closed, drifting, until she feels him come back, kneeling on the bed.

He opens her legs and presses a warm washcloth against her, holding it there for a few moments. She watches him with hooded eyes, smiling softly while he takes care of her, gently cleaning her up.

"Did they call you?" she asks quietly, rolling into his arms when he climbs back into bed.

He stretches an arm over his head, cuddling her into his chest with the other. "Mmm-mmm, not yet."

"Good," she sighs, pressing herself against him, closing her eyes.

Again, they sleep.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know what you thought!**


	43. The First Vacation

_**A/N: Note that I've indicated the passage of time with how many days they've been on vacation.**_

* * *

 _ **The First Vacation - 3 years old**_

 _ **Day 1…**_

 _This_ is paradise.

Olivia stretches languidly on the large, round, shaded cabana, sighing happily. Waves crash against the Hawaiian beach, rolling up to gently kiss the sand just a few feet in front of her, providing a soothing soundtrack for a late afternoon snooze. A breeze ruffles her curls, the edge of the white cotton sundress she'd thrown on over her bathing suit, cooling her legs where they're exposed to the sun. She drifts peacefully, eyes closed behind her bronze sunglasses.

"Mommy! Come _on_ , Mommy!"

She squints her eyes open, shielding them from the sun to watch as Fitz helps Micah jump over another wave.

Fitz grins over at her, shaking a curl out of his face. "Yeah, come _on_ , Mommy!"

She rolls her eyes, climbing off of the lounger and pulling her cover-up off.

"Okay, _okay_ , I'm coming!"

"Mommy, watch me!"

"I'm watching, are you gonna jump over another wave?"

" _Yeah!_ "

He's _ridiculously_ cute in his little blue and white striped swim trunks, and she watches him crouch down and shake his butt, like a cat getting ready to pounce. He jumps with all of his might as the next wave rolls in, and Fitz lifts him up and over the small surge of water.

"Woooo-hoo! Look at you! Is it _so_ fun?"

"Yeah!" Micah giggles, reaching for her hand, "Mommy, you jump too!"

"Oh, okay. You have to tell me when," she agrees, taking his hand.

She and Fitz share a smile as they watch him get ready again, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Ready, go!" he shrieks, squealing as they both lift and swing him high over the wave.

* * *

They're on their honeymoon.

A family honeymoon, because when they planned to spend two whole weeks on a private beach in Hawaii right after their wedding, there was no way Micah wasn't coming with them. They've never been away from him that long, and they have no intention of starting now.

The outdoor shower is incredibly exciting for a three-year-old, and they have no problem herding him inside when they get back from the beach.

Micah shrieks as the cold water hits him, jumping and laughing. "Daddy, it's feeeeezin'!"

Fitz laughs, nudging him out of the spray. "Well, you have to give it a second to warm up, bud. Liv, I'm not going to wash his hair, I'll just rinse it. No chlorine, should be fine, right?"

She smiles at him, rinsing her feet. "Yeah, we don't want it to get too dry."

"Where's that spray conditioner stuff?"

"I think it's still inside. I'll find it, I can finish his hair when you guys come in."

They'd arrived at their rental property around two in the afternoon and headed straight to the beach, not bothering to unpack much. After a short nap in the car, Micah's excitement was infectious and they couldn't resist the call of the waves.

"Dude, you have half the beach in your bathing suit," Fitz chuckles, shaking out Micah's swim trunks and rinsing him off.

"I went in the sand!"

"You sure did. Did you like it?"

"Yeah!"

"Maybe tomorrow we can go _in_ the ocean, it's pretty warm. Here, may as well use some soap."

"Daddy, what's this?"

"Umm, that's called a loofah. That one is a _real_ sponge, from the ocean."

Fitz lets him mess around with the bar of soap while he takes his own quick shower, rinsing away the sand and salt.

"Okay, are you clean?"

"Yep."

"You sure? Let's rinse your hair one more time just to make sure."

After they're finished, he dries them both and wraps a towel around his own waist, letting Micah run naked toward the house.

"Naked boy on the loose!" Fitz calls as Micah runs inside giggling, his bare feet slapping against the tile.

Liv pretends to be scandalized, popping out from behind the open fridge door. "What?! He better be careful, if he's too cute his Mommy might eat him."

"You can't eat me!" he giggles, catapulting himself onto the couch.

"Oh, I can. You better watch out."

"Daddy, help!"

"Eh, I don't really feel like it right now," Fitz sighs casually, sinking into an armchair, reaching for his cell phone.

Micah shrieks as Liv grabs him and starts to tickle him, playfully biting his neck, his little fingers.

"Alright, naked boy," she laughs, sitting up, grabbing his underwear and shorts off the coffee table, "Here, step in, you pull them up."

"Mommy, it's monkeys!"

"Yep, this pair has monkeys on it. Here, shorts too."

"I like am'nals."

"I know! Animals are so fun. Wait, let me tie them for you."

"Mommy, I can play my am'nals?"

He's currently _obsessed_ with the large set of plastic animal toys he'd gotten from Eli and Sandra for his third birthday.

"Sure, we brought some animals with us. Wait a minute, wiggles, you need spray," she laughs, pinning him between her thighs, leaning down to kiss his cheek, "Look, I got you a new special coconut one, so you smell like Hawaii."

"Like co—cona—"

"Like co-co-nut," she enunciates, spraying his curls with the conditioner.

"Co-clo-nut."

"Close enough. Hey, did he pee in there?"

Fitz looks disgusted. "In the _shower_? Ew, Liv."

"Okay, first of all, it's an outdoor shower. Second of all, don't even _pretend_ you've never peed in the shower."

"I can't even have this conversation with you."

She bursts into laughter, tickled to have found something he's so puritanical about. "Alright, well, I'll take that as a 'no', then. Micah, let's go potty before we eat dinner."

"I wanna play my am'nals."

"We'll get them, they're in the suitcase. Let's decide which ones we want to be while we go potty, then we'll get them."

"Okay! Mommy, you're a tiger."

"Oh, my _favorite_."

* * *

"Daddy?"

Liv opens one eye, glancing at the clock.

 _Two-thirty am…_

"Daddy?"

Fitz routinely sleeps through everything, while her mom-ears won't allow her to sleep through a single cough or sneeze.

"Daddy?"

Micah's whimpering, standing at Fitz's side of the bed.

"Fitz," she whispers, pushing against his back, poking him until he stirs.

"Wha—hey, buddy."

"I don't like it," he whimpers, clutching his stuffed turtle.

"You don't like what?" Fitz murmurs, sleepily, "Did you have a bad dream?"

"It's loud. I don't like it."

"It's loud?"

Micah wipes his nose, squeezing his turtle. "Yeah."

"Your room is loud?"

"No. It's out-seye."

"Maybe he hears the waves outside," Liv translates, yawning against his back, "Might be scary at night."

"C'mere," he whispers, sitting up to lift the tearful toddler into bed with them, "Shh, it's okay."

"Daddy."

"I know, I'm right here."

"Stay with you."

"Yeah, you can stay here tonight, it's okay."

"'Kay."

Olivia slides away to make room for Micah, watching him settle down between them, snuggled in to Fitz's chest. While he'll always come straight to her for comfort if he's sad, or hurt, if he's afraid he wants Fitz, every time.

"Shh, you're okay. Nothing to be afraid of," he soothes, letting Micah get comfortable.

When they're all settled she sighs, letting her eyes drift closed in the quiet. She's almost asleep again when—

"Hi Mommy."

She squints her eyes open to find Micah lying roughly three inches from her face.

"Shh, it's still sleep time."

"It's loud."

"I know, s'okay, pumpkin. It's just the ocean."

"The oh-shin?"

"Mmm-hmm. Where we played earlier. It's just the water, close your eyes."

"Mommy, you sleepin'?"

"I was."

"Oh."

There's a pause, and she starts to drift off again, hoping that Micah will too.

"Daddy?"

"Buddy, you have to go to sleep."

"It's loud. Sing, Mommy."

"Yeah, sing Mommy," Fitz yawns, reaching over to squeeze her arm.

Liv sighs, sliding up on her pillow a little bit. "I'll sing, but you have to get comfy, okay? Close your eyes."

Micah burrows down into the bed, lying on his tummy, turtle tucked under his chin. She sighs again, reaching out to smooth his hair, stroking her fingertips up and down his back. Quietly, she starts to sing. She'd been reluctant to sing to him at first, until she realized how much he loved it, and now it's a regular occurrence.

Only two people have _ever_ heard her sing, and they're both lying in bed next to her.

" _Stay awake, don't rest your head. Don't lie down, upon your bed. While the moon drifts, in the skies…stay awake, don't close your eyes…"_

* * *

 _ **Day 3…**_

"Mommy?"

"What, baby?"

"You're gonna go to work?"

"Nope. We're on vacation."

"Oh. We're at, umm, caysh-in?"

"That's right! Eat your yogurt, please, so we can go to the beach."

"I don't like it," he sighs, wrinkling his nose.

"I know, you're just gonna have to deal with it," Liv smiles, taking a sip of her smoothie, "You _do_ like it, it's still strawberry, it just has pieces of strawberry in it this time. We asked for strawberry yogurt and this is what's in the fridge. It's yummy!"

Micah points to her glass. "I want _that_."

"Really?" she asks, raising her eyebrows in surprise, "Okay, you can have some."

"Where's Daddy?"

"Daddy's running. We're going to the beach as soon as he gets back."

She's made a whole blender of smoothie to share with Fitz, and she pours some into one of Micah's cups. It's mostly fresh fruit, but she's added enough spinach that it's turned a questionable color and she's surprised he wants to try it.

"Hey, do you want to use a _straw_ like Mommy?"

"Yeah!"

She figures she may as well make it as exciting as possible, it's certainly in his best interest to drink a bunch of greens.

"Okay, here you go, let's 'cheers'!"

He gives her a blank stare and she laughs, realizing he has no idea what that means.

"Ready, cheers, we have to clink our cups like this—"

Olivia gently taps her glass against his plastic cup, and he grins as he watches her.

"Now we say, 'cheers!'."

"Cheese!"

She laughs, _hard_ , setting her glass down. "Oh my gosh, I love you. Not cheese, 'chee-ee-errs'," she enunciates, leaning forward so that he'll watch her mouth.

"Cheese!"

"Okay, close enough," she giggles, drinking her own smoothie, "Go ahead, drink it."

To her surprise, he takes a few big slurps through the straw, smacking his lips.

"Mmm! S'good."

"Oh, good, I'm so glad."

"We're gonna go to the beach? To the oh-shin?"

"Yes! What do you think we'll see at the beach today?"

"Umm…"

"Do you think we might see some birds?"

"Yeah! But, umm, we can feed them."

"That's right, we _can't_ feed the birds, it's not good for them. What about, do you think we might find some seashells?"

"Daddy found some, and then there was one, and Daddy said, 'get it!'"

"Yeah, we had to get that big one before the wave washed it away, huh? Do you think we'll see some fish?"

"No, we see addi-gator."

"Alligators?!" she exclaims, leaning forward.

"Yeah! They can eat us!" Micah giggles, knowing that he's being silly.

It's not often that she gets to eat breakfast with him, just the two of them, listening to his adorable, three-year-old thoughts. It still shocks her that they can have conversations now, that he has things he _needs_ to tell her, and she always does her best to listen.

They're still chatting when Fitz wanders back inside from his run, slightly out of breath. His hair is wildly curly, and he's shirtless, glistening with sweat.

"Hey, you guys," he grins, pulling his earbuds out.

"Daddy!"

She can't hide her reaction to his muscled form, unconsciously biting her lip, eyes drinking him in. He gives her a knowing smile, leaning in to kiss her softly.

" _Hi_."

"Hi. I—um," she swallows thickly, suddenly out of breath herself, "There's—I made a big smoothie."

"Great," he says, still grinning wolfishly, thoroughly enjoying the way she's unraveled, "You wanna show me where it is?"

Smiling mischievously, she follows him around and into the kitchen, still within sight but out of Micah's earshot.

"See something you like, Mrs. Grant?" he teases, gently pinning her back against the counter.

She moans softly, pulling him down into a kiss. "What's a girl have to do to get some _affection_ around here?"

"We're gonna make time. Later," Fitz rasps, glancing over to make sure Micah's still sitting at the table, "As soon as he's asleep, hopefully before he wakes up and gets in bed with us."

"He has the worst timing, he sleeps fine at home," she groans, kissing him again, running her hands through his damp curls, "He's lucky he's so cute, like his daddy."

The noise of the waves at night has become a _problem_ , propelling Micah into bed with them earlier and earlier.

Fitz chuckles low in his chest, sliding both hands around to squeeze her ass, making her giggle into his mouth.

"Daddy! You got a drink?"

"Sure, bud. Did he have some?"

"He sucked down a whole cup! I couldn't believe it," Liv exclaims, retrieving the blender from the fridge and pouring a full glass for Fitz.

"Cheese, Daddy!" Micah calls triumphantly from the table, waving his empty cup in the air.

"What?" Fitz laughs, looking to Liv.

"I tried to teach him how to 'cheers'. This is as far as we got," she explains, shaking her head.

He laughs again, taking a gulp of smoothie. "Okay, _that's_ adorable."

* * *

 _ **Day 5…**_

Olivia sighs, turning to the side in the master bedroom closet's full-length mirror.

She's not self-conscious.

She's not.

She's only been wearing one-piece suits because they're more conducive to chasing an active three-year-old around the beach, not because she's self-conscious about her stretch marks. It's for the sake of practicality, nothing more.

She adjusts the bottoms of the one bikini she's brought with her, trying to settle them in the perfect spot, just so below her belly button. Frowning, she pulls them up another centimeter, trying to flatten the small pooch of skin that she can't seem to get rid of. Turning straight on, she tightens the halter top again, trying to lift her breasts a little, tipping her head critically when they don't sit where she'd like them to.

"Hey, are you ready? Micah's bouncing off the—"

Fitz stops when he sees her jump slightly in embarrassment, realizing immediately what she's doing.

"I'm ready. I was just—I was looking for my wrap."

A slow smile spreads across his face and he strolls over to her, drinking her in, admiring all of the skin exposed by the simple white suit.

"We've been here for five days, and you're just _now_ wearing this?" he breathes, settling his hands over her hips.

"You like it?" she murmurs, letting him make her feel sexy, chasing away the insecurity like he always does.

Instead of answering, he dips his mouth to her throat, pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses down to her chest. It's not a particularly skimpy bikini, but there's ample space between the cups of her top, and he laves her skin with his tongue, kissing and nipping at the curves of her breasts. She whimpers and tangles her fingers in his hair, panting softly. He's _ravishing_ her, and it makes her knees feel like they might give out.

They _still_ haven't had any time to themselves, and it's starting to become unbearable.

Olivia gets swept away quickly, and before she knows it he's crouching down in front of her, pressing his open mouth over the material covering her core, exhaling a _hot_ breath—

"Mommy?"

She yelps, shoving Fitz away from her, watching as the poor guy loses his balance and topples over onto the floor.

"What, baby?" she asks, trying to hide the fact that she's completely breathless, watching the little boy hop around in the doorway.

"I wanna bring my am'nals!"

"Okay," she nods, adjusting her top, shifting uncomfortably, "Why don't you—um, go in your room and pick some to bring, okay? I'll be right there."

" _Yes!_ "

Micah scampers away and she groans, covering her face with her hands.

"Oh my god, are you okay?"

Fitz immediately dissolves into laughter on the floor. "It's like he _knows_."

" _How?_ I don't understand," she giggles, groaning again, reaching for her sarong, tying it high around her waist.

She turns back to find him still laying on the floor.

He looks at her seriously, raising his eyebrows. "If we don't have sex soon, I might die."

Olivia bursts into laughter, reaching both hands down to help him up. "You and me both."

* * *

"Oh, buddy, what's going on?"

She can hear the little boy sobbing from a few yards away, as he and Fitz walk up the beach toward their cabana.

"I can't make a—a castle, and—and the oh-shin was coming—and my castle—"

Fitz folds his hands in a prayer position and lays his head on them, signaling to her that Micah is in desperate need of a nap.

"Whoa, whoa, okay. That's okay, baby, take a breath. Do you want to come lay with me for a couple minutes?"

"Yeah," he sniffles, hiccupping as Fitz lifts him onto the lounger.

"C'mere, give me a hug."

He crawls up into Olivia's arms, letting her settle him against her chest. He only cries like this if he's _completely_ exhausted, and it doesn't surprise her at all given how erratic his sleep schedule has been on vacation.

"There," she soothes, gently scratching her nails over his back, "We all get frustrated sometimes, but that's okay. We just need to take a rest."

"Not tired, Mommy."

"I know, that's okay," she murmurs, ignoring his protest, knowing he'll fall asleep as soon as he stops crying, "You don't have to sleep, just rest your body. Shh."

Minutes later, his small body grows heavy on her, his breaths soft and even against her skin.

"You've been his favorite pillow since he was a baby," Fitz says fondly, stretching out next to them, looking ready for a nap himself, "I'd never get him to nap on me like that now. You're loving this, aren't you?"

She glances down at Micah, smiling softly, slowly stroking her fingers through his curls. "Of course. It's so few and far between that he'll fall asleep on me, and soon he won't anymore."

"You know," Fitz starts, tipping his head thoughtfully, "He's _really_ out. We could let him nap in his bed…"

Olivia is already sitting up carefully, one step ahead of him.

* * *

Fitz carefully closes Micah's bedroom door, leaving the little boy napping soundly.

When he comes out into the living room, she's in the kitchen mixing tequila with fresh grapefruit juice and agave, their island cocktail of choice.

"Did he stay asleep?" she asks hopefully, pouring two glasses.

He slowly raises his fist into the air in victory, nodding slowly, making her giggle.

Plopping down onto the couch, he fixes her with a heated stare. "I think he'll be out for at least an hour, he was really worn out."

A slow smiles creeps across her face, and she abandons their drinks, doing a little skip out into the living room. She flips her sarong out of the way and straddles his lap, holding onto his shoulders as she settles down on top of him.

" _Mmm_."

They don't say anything, melting into each other, connecting in a long, slow kiss.

"Finally," she murmurs against his lips, slipping her tongue into his mouth.

He groans softly, cradling her hips, slowly stroking the smooth, warm skin of her back.

"Want you," he rasps, already hazy with arousal.

Her head tips back as he presses kisses against her throat, rocking her hips over the hard bulge of his cock.

Olivia whimpers, grinding her hips down, pressing her breasts into his chest. "I think I could come just from this…want you so much."

He loves her like this, desperately responsive, so warm and pliable in his arms. "As hot as that is, I'd rather..."

Fitz kisses the curves of her breasts, nuzzling them affectionately as he slips his hand into her bikini bottoms. She's _ready_ , her clit swollen and slippery as he cradles it between two fingers, rubbing slowly.

"You've been wet all day, haven't you?"

" _Mmm-hmm…baby…_ "

Her breath stutters and catches as he touches her, and she reaches up to untie her top, letting it fall down to bare her breasts. Fitz groans appreciatively, immediately pulling her right nipple into his mouth.

" _Oh_ …god," she whimpers, tangling her fingers in his hair, clenching around his fingers when he slips them inside of her.

"Daddy?"

Olivia yelps and quickly covers her mouth, hiding her body against Fitz's.

"Whoa, hey, buddy," Fitz gasps, wrapping his arms more fully around his wife's naked torso, "You're awake."

"I waked up."

"I see that," he says, swallowing hard, feeling Liv's chest heave against his, "Did you have a good nap?"

"Is Mommy sad?" Micah asks, looking at their position curiously.

"No, she's not sad, she's okay. She was just—um, she…"

"I was cold," Liv supplies helpfully, cuddling further into Fitz's chest.

"Yeah, Mommy was really cold, so I was hugging her to warm her up."

"Oh. Mommy, you cold?"

"Yeah, I was really cold, Daddy was just making sure I was warm."

"You need a blanket?"

"Yes!" she breathes, seeing an opportunity, "That is exactly what I need, Micah. Can you go find me one?"

"Yeah!" he exclaims, skipping away.

They breathe for half a second, and then spring into action.

"No, no, no," she whines into Fitz's neck, laughing half-heartedly, quickly pulling her top back up.

"We're giving him Benadryl tonight."

"You know, I like the way you're thinking, but I think we should maybe try something else," she sighs, scooting back to pull their hips apart.

"Nope. I love him, but I have yet to have sex with my wife on our honeymoon, that calls for desperate measures."

"We can't drug our child, Fitz. We're going to figure something out," she soothes, stroking her fingers through his hair, smirking at his frustration.

"I know we can't, but just let me pretend that we can."

"Okay, baby, whatever you need."

"Here, Mommy!"

Micah trots back over dragging his fleece, animal-patterned blanket behind him.

"Oh, thank you," Liv says, climbing off of Fitz's lap, "Here, cover me up."

* * *

 _ **Day 7…**_

"Dude, I'm _gonna_ catch you," Fitz laughs, trying to ease the worry on Micah's little face.

They're playing at the house's in-ground salt water pool this afternoon, practicing Micah's swimming skills sans-floaties. The little boy _desperately_ wants to try jumping off the edge into the water, but he's adorably scared at the same time.

Olivia watches, amused, floating nearby on a raft.

"You gonna cash me, Daddy?" he asks again, teetering on the edge.

Fitz dips his freckled shoulders beneath the water. "Of course I will, I'm right here. Jumping in is so _fun_!"

"You can do it, baby," Liv encourages, trailing her fingers through the cool water.

He leans forward and then back again, trying to work up the nerve. In a fit of nervous excitement, he shrieks, dancing on the spot a bit, making them both laugh.

"Mommy, why don't you show him how it's done?" Fitz suggests, grinning at her.

"Mommy, _you_ do it!" Micah giggles, jumping on the bandwagon immediately.

She slips off the raft and swims underwater to the stone steps, climbing out of the pool and beckoning Fitz over to where the water is a bit deeper.

"Alright, I'll do it first, are you ready? You going to catch me, Daddy?"

"Promise."

Micah's come over to where she's standing, watching excitedly. "Go, Mommy!"

"Are you going to try after me?" she asks, bending down to pull his swim trunks up higher on his waist.

"Umm, yes, but _you_!"

"Okay, here I go."

She steps to the edge and takes a small hop into the water, trying not to land directly on top of her husband. They seem to do a good job of making it look like he's caught her, because Micah claps and jumps happily.

"See?!" Fitz exclaims, wrapping his arms around her waist as she clings to him, spinning her playfully, "No big deal, even Mommy did it. Your turn!"

"Daddy does a very good job, I wasn't even scared," Liv says, swimming a few feet away to tread water in the deep end.

They go back and forth for a few more minutes, trying to convince Micah to take the plunge, until they can see he's getting frustrated with himself.

"Here, do you want me to hold your hand?" Liv asks, hoisting herself out of the water to sit on the edge next to him, "I'll hold your hand until Daddy catches you, okay?"

"Okay," Micah agrees, seeming to like this new option, taking her hand.

Fitz is still in position, waiting patiently. "We'll count to three, and then you jump, okay?"

"Yeah," Micah giggles, terrified and excited at the same time, tiptoeing closer to the edge.

"One…two… _three!_ "

Olivia gives him a nudge, pulling on his hand a little bit so that he _finally_ hops off the edge into Fitz's arms. They both cheer for him, laughing at the excitement on his face, how proud he looks.

"I did it!"

"You did it," Fitz laughs, holding him securely, gently dipping deeper into the water.

For the most part, Micah's been doing well learning to swim, but he can't tread water yet, and going completely underwater is still a little scary for him.

"What do you want to do now? Do you want to jump some more, or swim to Mommy?"

"I wanna jump _again!_ "

"Okay, let's swim to the steps."

"Okay!"

He only gets more and more brave, first graduating to jumping without holding Liv's hand, and then letting Fitz wait longer and longer to catch him, letting him go under first.

But after almost an hour, he's getting tired, and on his way over to the ladder his doggie-paddle falters and he inhales a mouthful of water.

"Oops," Fitz murmurs, quick to grab him and hand him out to Olivia, who has been sitting on the edge watching them play.

Liv holds him on her lap, wincing as he chokes and coughs, his eyes wide. "It's okay, cough it out. Breathe, baby."

As soon as he has enough breath he's whimpering, coughing and reaching his arms around her neck.

"I know, that's scary, huh? You're okay. You have to keep your mouth closed, remember? That's really important," she soothes, hugging him, rubbing his back.

Fitz does a few laps back and forth across the pool while she comforts him, tipping his face up toward the sun and realizing its late afternoon already. It takes a few minutes for Micah to get his breath back, but he eventually turns around and settles in Liv's lap, leaning back against her chest, playing with her wedding band.

"You okay, bud?" Fitz asks, swimming back over to them, pressing a noisy raspberry against Micah's knee.

It gets a tiny smile out of him, and he presses further back against his mom.

"What do you think, are you hungry for some dinner? I bet Daddy will grill for us," Liv murmurs, hugging her arms around him.

Micah shrugs, still in a mood after his incident.

"No? You don't want any…potatoes?"

He perks up a bit at the mention of one of his favorite foods. Olivia bends close, pressing her mouth right against his ear to tickle him.

"How about some shrimpies?"

Micah giggles, trying to squirm away from the tickle of her breath.

"Daddy and I are gonna eat _all_ the watermelon—"

"No, I want wadda-melin!"

"I thought you might," Liv smiles, letting Micah crawl out of her lap.

"Daddy, you makin' shimpies?"

Fitz chuckles, pulling himself out of the pool. "I sure am!"

* * *

After a long afternoon of swimming, Micah almost falls asleep at the dinner table, and by the time Olivia gets him into bed she's not sure she even needs to read a story.

Micah, of course, insists that he can stay awake for one.

"I love you, do you know that?" she murmurs, leaning down to kiss his forehead, and then his cheek.

"Luh-you Mommy," he answers drowsily, reaching his arms up around her neck, melting her heart, "Read the trees?"

She chuckles softly, finding the book he wants and settling down next to him.

"Okay, pumpkin, I think we have everything. Your cup is right here, your night light is on, do you have Henry?"

He shows her his turtle, settling down further under his blankets, cuddling into the side of her leg.

Liv opens their book on her lap with one hand, settling the other into his hair, gently playing with his curls. " _At the far end of town, where the Grickle-grass grows…_ "

She's halfway through The Lorax when Fitz comes into the room, carrying a portable Bluetooth speaker and a pile of cords. When she furrows her brows at him he waves her off, gesturing for her to keep reading.

"… _unless someone like you cares a whole, awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not."_

Micah's almost asleep, soothed by the sound of her voice.

" _Stay awake, don't rest your head…_ "

Olivia looks up when a song starts to play out of the speaker Fitz has set up, finding him grinning triumphantly. After a moment, she realizes it's not Julie Andrews singing, it's her _own_ voice lilting across the room.

"It's Mommy," Micah sighs sleepily, eyes heavy.

" _How_ did you—"

"It _is_ Mommy," Fitz whispers, coming over to them, watching Liv stroke her fingers through his curls, "Mommy is gonna sing to you all night, so you can stay in your bed."

"'Kay," he sighs, already asleep.

They both slip from the room easily, turning off the lights and closing the door.

Olivia turns to him incredulously. "How? _How?_ "

"You sounded so nice the other night, I recorded you with my phone," he shrugs, wrapping his arms around her waist, walking her toward the master bedroom.

"What if your phone dies?" she breathes, letting him guide her blindly.

"Everything is plugged in. I converted the recording to an audio file, put it on repeat, and bam—"

She gasps as her back hits the bedroom wall.

"—that kid is _not_ going to wake up tonight."

"Close the door," she sighs, reaching for the bottom of his tee shirt.

Their moans match when he comes back to her, kissing her tongue-first, pressing her into the wall. Her hands slide over his broad shoulders and into his hair, moaning again as he plunders her mouth.

"Gonna fuck you right here, right against this wall," he growls, peeling her tank top over her head.

She whimpers, pushing his shorts down, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of his boxer briefs. Abruptly, she slips out of his grasp and kneels in front of him, easing the fabric down to free his erection. Immediately, he can't breathe, bracing his hands against the wall. She strokes him a few times with her hand, pulling breathless groans from his chest.

"Liv, I don't— _fuck_ —"

Moaning softly, she closes her mouth around the head of his cock, rubbing his silky skin with her tongue.

" _Fuck_ —I—"

She starts to suck gently, barely moving her mouth up and down, and he loses it.

"I can't, I can't _, stop_ ," he gasps, pulling her up, roughly pushing her sleep shorts and underwear down.

He barely gives her time to kick the garments away before he picks her up, holding her against the wall as he pushes inside her with one thrust.

" _Ungh_ … _oh, you feel so good_ ," he groans helplessly, burying his face in her neck, his hips involuntarily starting to rock.

" _Fuck me_ ," she gasps, hips flexing impatiently.

He thrusts hard, knocking her hips against the wall, forcing little breathless sounds from her.

" _Yes…yes…_ "

She can't even moan, can't breathe, can only focus on how good he feels, how _close_ she is already. He snaps his hips faster, panting against her neck, feeling her tighten around him and then _shatter, finally_. She keens loudly, her mouth wide as she comes violently, squeezing her arms around his shoulders. His rhythm gets erratic, and he thrusts hard enough to bounce her against the wall, once, twice, before he explodes.

His groans are long and pained, hips slowing to a rhythmic rock through his orgasm, pressing her into the wall over and over. Aftershocks buzz through her belly and down her thighs, flooding her body with warmth, flooding her core again. Fitz grinds into her when he feels it, lifting his head, dragging his nose across her cheek to kiss her lazily.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he whispers, sucking on her bottom lip.

She sighs, smiling and laughing breathlessly, winding her hips. "And you _love_ to talk about it."

"Because it's _hot_ ," he breathes, smiling into another long kiss, still gently moving his hips.

"You know what's hot? That you're still hard for me," she murmurs, tightening her muscles around him.

She's not entirely right, he's not completely hard, but he's not soft either, and he can feel himself filling again as her muscles squeeze and pulse around him.

"Round two, Mr. President?" she quips, smiling wickedly against his mouth.

"Anytime, anywhere, Mrs. Grant."

* * *

 **A/N: I might do the other half of their trip at some point but I thought I'd leave it here for now. The song Liv sings to Micah is "Stay Awake" from Mary Poppins, and the book they read was The Lorax, by Dr. Seuss. I hope you guys liked this one, let me know what you thought!**


	44. The First Big Change

_**The First Big Change - 3 years old**_

"Still have a headache?" Fitz asks softly, closing their bedroom door.

Olivia groans quietly, massaging her temples from her position in their bed. "I don't know what it is, almost every night this week."

"Maybe it's the weather?" he suggests, turning the overhead lights off, "Sometimes air pressure has weird side effects."

"I have no idea," she sighs, turning on her side to face him as he climbs into bed.

"Mind if I read? I can turn the table light off if it's too much."

"No, it's fine," she murmurs absently, pillowing her head on her arm, "What story did you read him?"

Fitz smiles, reaching for his novel. "The Tale of Mr. Jeremy Fisher."

"Oh, that's a good one. I can't believe we've waited this long to introduce him to Beatrix Potter."

"Well, they're kind of dark."

"How?" she giggles, blinking her deep, expressive eyes up at him.

"I mean, they bake a kitten into a pastry in one of them. Try to, anyway."

"They don't _actually_ succeed though."

"Still. I think it's good we waited," Fitz says, opening his book, slouching down against his pillows.

They're quiet for a few minutes, Fitz diving back into the fictional world, and Liv lost in thought next to him.

"Actually, I do have an idea about what's wrong with me," she admits softly, flicking her eyes up toward him.

His attention is on her immediately. "You think something's wrong?"

"Well, no, not wrong. Just…I think I know why I've felt so off lately."

Fitz closes his book, setting it down on his lap, and waits for her to elaborate.

"It's—it's 'woman' stuff."

"Oh. Okay…am I supposed to be grossed out? I've watched you give birth, bought you tampons, helped you hand-express breastmilk—"

"—alright, alright, good point. I think…I might be starting to go through menopause."

His eyebrows nearly disappear into his hairline. "Seriously? Aren't you kind of young for that?"

"I mean, I'm forty."

"Yeah, but, forty isn't old."

"In reproductive years it is. I was already considered to be of 'advanced' maternal age when I had Micah, three years ago."

"Well, hang on, back up. Why do you think you're going through menopause?"

"I don't know, I just feel so…strange. I don't know how to describe it. I'm _exhausted_ , I've been getting these headaches, I just feel like I'm crashing, constantly. And I haven't had a period in almost three months."

He sits up straighter. "You're _three months_ _late_?"

"No," she sighs, rolling her eyes, "I'm not late. I just, I don't know, I haven't cycled."

"How do you know that? Because the obvious explanation would be—"

"—I know, and I took a pregnancy test when I missed the first one," she mumbles, picking at her cuticle, "It was negative."

"Oh. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to get your hopes up. It wasn't a big deal, I knew I wasn't. I just took one while you guys were at swim lessons one night, and it was—"

"Wait, you took it at night?"

She stares at him for a second. "Yeah, while you and Micah were at his swim lesson."

"Liv, you're supposed to take those things in the morning."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're supposed to take them in the morning, that's your most concentrated pee."

"Why do you know this? And why don't _I_ know this?" she asks, wrinkling her nose.

"I've fathered four children, I know a thing or two about home pregnancy tests."

"So, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying," he says slowly, turning to face her, "That if you tested at night, right after you missed your first period, you could've gotten a false negative."

"Fitz—"

"I'm serious, you could be pregnant right now."

"I'm not pregnant," she argues, gently, "I'm just…old."

"You're not old. But you _could_ be pregnant."

"I'd know if I were pregnant, okay?" she snaps, "I haven't been nauseous or _anything_. And besides, we're too old to have another baby. We _shouldn't_ have another baby, you should be relieved that it was negative."

"I don't know about that," Fitz murmurs, lying down next to her, "I think we've done a great job so far, we could definitely handle another one. You loved when Micah was tiny."

Olivia's gaze softens, and she reaches for his hand. "I didn't mean it like that. I know we could. And, I did love when Micah was tiny, but I love the age he is now, too. It would just be scary to be pregnant at my age. Everything is so great right now, we're settled, we're _happy_ , I just—I don't know that I'd want to disrupt all of that. But this is beside the point, because I'm not pregnant. More than likely I'm…changing."

He looks contemplative, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. "I think you should take another test. One more."

She purses her lips. "I'm not—"

"I know. I know you don't think you are. But don't you want to be absolutely sure? I know you have another test somewhere, they come in a two-pack, don't they?"

"I _might_ have one left, yes—"

"Great! In the morning, just take it, just to be sure. And then you can focus your energy on whatever changes are happening."

"I have a doctor's appointment on Friday," she says softly, sliding closer to him, "Just to get checked out. And talk about everything."

Fitz pulls her against his chest, pressing a kiss into her hair. "That's good, Livvie. Even if you _are_ , you know, changing, we'll get through it together. I'm not going to look at you any differently."

"I know, and I wasn't worried that you would. It's just…weird."

"I obviously have no frame of reference," he sighs, rubbing her back, "But I can imagine it would be. Your body just doing whatever it wants without your consent."

She hums, closing her eyes. "That feels good, don't stop."

He smiles against the top of her head, his hand tracing slow, firm circles over her back.

* * *

The way he rubs her back is incredibly relaxing, but she still can't sleep.

Sometime after he drifts off, she rolls over, staring at the ceiling.

 _I'd know if I were pregnant_.

Her hand unconsciously drifts down to her stomach, lightly resting there.

 _That test was negative. You're not pregnant. He's just putting ideas in your head._

 _Getting pregnant_ _ **while**_ _on birth control,_ _ **twice**_ _, is statistically highly unlikely_ , she reasons, glancing over at her sleeping husband.

 _And anyway, we should_ _ **not**_ _have a baby at our age. By the time this hypothetical kid were to graduate high school I'd be almost sixty. And Fitz would be over seventy. Not really fair to a kid. Although I'm sure Fitz will be a very 'fit' seventy._

She smiles to herself, shifting slightly in bed.

 _Babies are fun though. A lot more fun than I thought, anyway. He smelled so good, and he was so warm and soft. And the snuggles,_ _ **oh**_ _, all the snuggles. I miss that. I miss breastfeeding, too. So special, and I still can't believe it went so well for us. I never thought I'd love it as much as I did._

She closes her eyes, shakes her head a little.

 _Stop. You're not pregnant. And they don't stay babies forever, he's so big now. He's still incredible though…how proud he looks when he learns a new word, or builds his tower one level higher than he could yesterday. And now he can actually_ _ **tell**_ _me he loves me, with those big brown eyes, ugh…he's going to figure out how much that melts my heart soon and then we're in trouble._

 _Having another one would be…hard. But probably_ _ **so**_ _wonderful. I've loved it the first time, I'd love it a second time, too._

 _But it doesn't matter, because you're not pregnant._

Dragging her hand away from her stomach, she rolls onto her side, curling up.

 _You're not pregnant, you're just getting older. You'll take a test to appease him in the morning, and it will be negative, and everything will stay just the way it is. Life is so good right now, better than I ever thought it could be. We're already a family. We're perfect, just the way we are._

* * *

At five am, she decides there's no point waiting any longer, and digs the spare test out of her nightstand. Creeping into the bathroom, she uncaps it and sighs, resolved to the answer that's forthcoming.

When she climbs back into bed, the test incubating on the bathroom counter, Fitz is awake, blinking sleepily at her.

"Morning," he rasps, leaning over to kiss her softly, "Did you sleep?"

"No," she murmurs, kissing him a few more times, "Thanks to _you_. Putting ideas in my head."

He smiles, pulling her close. "Sorry. I just can't let it go, until we know for sure."

"I know. And you're right, it says right in the instructions to take it in the morning. So…I don't know," she shrugs, reaching out to smooth his hair back, "I don't feel like I am, but, what do I know. I've only done this once before."

"You've lived in your body your entire life though," he chuckles, "I'm not trying to make you feel crazy."

She giggles, tucking herself against his chest. "I don't feel crazy. Just, confused. But not really, I know I'm not pregnant. I can't be."

"Okay," he soothes, rubbing her back.

They lay quietly for a few minutes, breathing each other in, listening to the silence of their house before their active toddler wakes up.

"It's probably ready," she murmurs eventually, rolling out of his arms.

She sits up, and hesitates, playing with the comforter.

"Will you look for me?" she asks, her voice small and soft.

Fitz leans over to kiss her temple, climbing out of bed and padding into the bathroom.

In the few seconds he's gone, her heart starts to race and she takes a deep breath, trying to will herself to calm down.

When he comes back out, he stands in the doorway for a moment, looking over at her.

"It's negative."

It takes her breath away.

Olivia stares into his eyes as he crosses to their bed, sitting down in front of her.

 _Negative, again. Not pregnant._

She nods slowly, immediately looking down at her hands. "Right. I mean, it's not a surprise, I knew I wasn't. It's—this is the best answer, really. Because having a baby at our age, it's just not practical. Things are perfect the way they are, I _love_ our life, really, and I know you do too. This is good."

She doesn't realize she's crying until she looks up, and Fitz's sympathetic expression is blurred. He reaches for her hands, and she laughs at herself through her tears, squeezing him back.

"I'm being so stupid, I don't know why I'm crying. I was never pregnant, I _knew_ I wasn't."

"It's not stupid," he murmurs, reaching out to wipe her cheek with his thumb.

Sniffling sadly, she reaches for a tissue, dabbing at her eyes. "Really? It's negative?"

He takes a breath. "No, actually, it's positive."

Her heart stops.

She stares at him for a long moment, trying to absorb his gentle smile.

"What?"

"It's not negative, it's positive. Absolutely positive," he says, leaning forward a bit, raising her hands to his mouth for a kiss.

"It's positive?" she says, suddenly breathless, eyes wide.

"It's positive, Livvie," he smiles, rubbing her thighs through the blankets, his grin growing wider by the second.

"I'm pregnant?"

"You're pregnant."

 _Positive. Pregnant. Another baby._

"We're having a baby? Another baby?"

"We're gonna have another baby. You're going to be a mommy again."

And now she's crying again, for a completely different reason, laughing and reaching for him. She cradles his face and kisses him hard, over and over, gasping, giggling, crying, feeling his own tears mix with hers. Her arms wrap around his neck and he hauls her into his lap, hugging her against his chest.

" _Oh my god, oh my god, I'm pregnant...we're pregnant. I'm so—I can't—_ "

He's laughing too, the combined joy between them spilling over.

"I'm really pregnant?" she asks incredulously, pulling back to meet his eyes.

"You are _so_ pregnant, you should see how dark that second line is."

"What is _wrong_ with you?!" she exclaims suddenly, punching his chest, his shoulder, "Why would you do that?!"

"Ow!" he laughs, turning to dodge her next punch, catching her wrist, "Stop it!"

"Seriously, _why_ would you do that?" she gasps, holding his face between her hands.

"Because," he says softly, looking down at her belly, "You didn't get to be excited the first time we did this. And this time, I knew you would be, I _knew_ you'd be happy, if you _let_ yourself. So, I lied to you, so you'd know how you really feel about it. I wanted you to have this—the _joy_ of it."

There are fresh tears on her cheeks by the time he stops talking, and she leans in to kiss him again, and again, her breath catching.

"I love you. I love that we apparently suck at birth control."

He laughs against her mouth, squeezing her close. "Me too. I love you too."

* * *

 **A/N: Happy Mother's Day y'all! I've been thinking about doing this for a while now, and I wrote this chapter in about 2 hours because it felt so right. There is a lot more to come with this new storyline, and I am SO excited for them. Hope you guys are excited too! Let me know!**


	45. The First Big Change II

_Soft whimpers start to rouse her from sleep._

 _By the time she's awake enough to sit up, the baby is crying pitifully, squawking and taking big, deep breaths._

" _Oh…oh, shh," Olivia soothes, lifting the tiny baby from the co-sleeper attached to their bed, "Come here, my love, I'm right here. I know, shh…"_

 _She cradles her little one to her breast, watching as the baby quiets and latches easily, suckling instinctively. The familiar feelings of warmth and protectiveness wash over her, and she closes her eyes for a few moments, concentrating on the way her last baby feels in her arms, soaking it in…_

* * *

 **6 Months, and 3 Weeks Earlier…**

They scamper into the bathroom like little kids, and she picks up the pregnancy test, covering her mouth with one hand.

"It's really positive," she says again, looking at him with wide, glassy eyes.

Fitz swoops her up, and she squeals as he spins her around, squeezing her arms around his neck.

"So, how pregnant _am_ I?" she wonders aloud as he sets her back down, slightly bewildered, "It's been about three months, so I could be almost twelve weeks along already."

He's already on his knees, pushing her shirt out of the way to kiss her stomach.

"Hi, little one," he murmurs, "I'm sorry I haven't said hello before now, but you surprised us. We didn't know you were in there."

"Yeah, we didn't know," she agrees, running her fingers through his hair, already completely comfortable talking to the baby, "We had no idea. I can't believe I really—maybe I was in denial."

He hums, nuzzling her skin, kissing below her belly button.

"I haven't been sick," she breathes, suddenly sounding alarmed, "Why haven't I been sick? I was sick for _weeks_ the first time. Do you think that means something's wrong?"

Fitz stands up and pulls her close. "No, I don't think it means something's wrong, I don't think that means anything at all. This is a new pregnancy, it's a totally different baby in there."

She doesn't look convinced, frowning slightly. "I should've had some prenatal care by now. I went to the doctor around seven weeks last time."

"Hey, relax," he urges, kissing her softly, "Didn't you say you have an appointment over there on Friday? Just call and let them know it turns out you're pregnant, change it to a prenatal. Problem solved."

"Okay, I guess you're right. No, you're right, I'm sure it's fine, Friday is only two days away."

He can see her brain whirring a million miles an hour, and he kisses her again, determined to bring her mood back up.

"Can we keep being excited?" he murmurs, spinning her around and walking her back toward the bedroom, "We made another baby. Another _gorgeous_ baby."

His words have the desired effect, and Liv smiles against his mouth, pulling him down into another kiss. "We _did_ make another baby, and we make pretty babies. I _love_ making babies with you."

She giggles as he gently pushes her back into bed, climbing on top of her.

"Mmm. You're pregnant," he whispers grinning against her neck, kissing his way back down to her belly, "I wasn't totally sure that you weren't, but I wasn't sure that you _were_ either. I'm so surprised."

" _You're_ surprised? I thought I was going through menopause! Turns out I'm still fertile."

Fitz laughs against her skin, still nuzzling her stomach affectionately.

"Oh," she whispers, looking down at him, gently running the backs of her fingers over his cheek, "I'm going to try to enjoy it this time. I'm gonna let you take care of me, and fuss over me, and do all the cringe-worthy things I fought you on the first time."

"Yeah?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"I can't wait. I can't wait until your belly starts growing. I _love_ you pregnant, Livvie."

"I know you do," she giggles, her eyes suddenly filling with tears, her breath catching, "Oh my gosh, Micah is going to be a big brother."

"He's going to be a _great_ big brother."

She covers her mouth, tears spilling onto her cheeks, overwhelmed by the thought of her first baby holding her second baby. "I'm pregnant."

He scoots back up the bed and pulls her into his arms, holding her tightly. "You are."

After a few moments she pulls back, cradling his face. "Mmm. Kiss me."

Fitz captures her mouth in a slow kiss, pouring all of his excitement and love into it.

"Do I look different?" she whispers, smiling into the kiss.

He rolls her over, kneeling between her thighs to look at her.

"Hmm," he murmurs, pushing her shirt up, "I don't think so. You can't be too far along because your tummy is still pretty flat."

"I can't believe my boobs don't hurt," she muses, massaging her chest experimentally, "But I guess maybe that didn't start right away last time."

"You get to breastfeed another baby," Fitz smiles, knowing how much she'd loved breastfeeding Micah.

Her eyes fill with tears again, and she pulls him down to her. "I know. I'm so happy."

Hearing her tell him how happy she is makes _him_ tear up, and he nuzzles his face into her neck, holding on to her.

"Need to take advantage of this," he murmurs after a moment, "Being able to hold you like this. We won't be able to lay this way pretty soon."

"Mmm," she hums, running her fingers through his hair, "That's true. I'll be full of baby."

Fitz chuckles into her neck, pressing soft kisses there. Opening his mouth a little more, he exhales a warm breath against her skin, using the tip of his tongue to tease her. She sighs quietly, unconsciously opening her thighs a bit more, shifting her hips, cupping the back of his neck.

"Want you," she whispers, rubbing her hands over his back, "Want to? Before he wakes up?"

"Are you kidding me?" he murmurs, pulling back to nuzzle his nose against hers, "We just found out you're carrying a baby for us, possibly the sexiest thing you could ever do. And you're asking if I want to make love to you?"

She smiles, tipping her chin up for a kiss, moaning softly when his tongue strokes over hers.

He works his way down to her hips, nuzzling her belly as he peels her underwear off. "Mmm. Remember how sensitive you were last time?"

"How could I forget?" she sighs, tangling her fingers in his hair, "Who knew pregnant sex could be so amazing?"

He grins against her skin, pressing warm, slow kisses against her inner thigh. Starting at her knee he works his way down, warming her up, listening as her breath deepens. When he gets to her hip crease he bites her there, ghosting his mouth across her core, coaxing out a breathless giggle and a flex of her hips.

* * *

A little while later, on her way back from the bathroom, she scoops his t-shirt up off the floor, slipping it on along with fresh panties.

"Remember when we didn't have to get dressed after sex?" Fitz muses, pulling her back under the covers with him.

She hums, cuddling into his chest, yawning against his neck. "Mmm. 'm tired again. You don't have to get up, do you?"

"No, but aren't you going to work?" he asks, smiling into her hair.

"Eh. I'm the boss, _and_ I'm pregnant, I don't have to go if I don't want to."

He chuckles, rubbing his hand up and down her back.

They both jump when little hands start to bang on their bedroom door.

"Oh," Fitz breathes, eyes wide, "Shit, what time is it?"

"Hello?!" Micah hollers, knocking on the door again, "I'm out here!"

"Go let him in," she giggles, rolling to sit up.

Fitz clambers out of bed and opens the door, revealing their slightly petulant three-year-old.

"I was in my bed," he pouts, barging into the room with his turtle in tow, "It was a _long_ time."

In her head, Olivia translates that into the assumption that he's been awake for a while now, lying in his bed waiting for them.

"Good morning," Liv says softly, trying to counterbalance his slightly frustrated energy, also trying not to laugh because he's so cute when he's mad.

She holds her hands out and he comes willingly, letting her lift him into bed.

"You're such a big boy, waking up all by yourself. Did you have a good sleep?"

"Yeah," Micah nods, snuggling into her arms, blinking at Fitz when he climbs in next to them.

"Yeah? Did you have nice dreams?" she murmurs, pressing kisses into his curls.

"Umm, no, I didn't dream. Mommy, kiss Henry."

"Oh, of course," she smiles, kissing the turtle's head, "Good morning, Henry. Mommy and Daddy were super tired this morning, thanks for waking us up."

"Umm, Daddy?"

"What, bud?"

"Are we gonna go color today?"

"No, not today, art class is tomorrow. One more sleep. We can color here, though, with your crayons."

"Oh. Okay."

Micah wiggles out of Liv's arms and lays down between them, playing with his turtle.

Olivia glances at the clock and reaches for her cell phone, winking at Fitz. He watches as she finds a number in her address book and presses it, holding the phone up to her ear.

"Hi, this is Olivia Pope-Grant…yes. I'm well, thank you. I'm calling because I have a gyn appointment on Friday, and I need to change it to an ob/gyn appointment. I had a positive at-home pregnancy test this morning."

She has the most _beautiful_ smile on her face, and Fitz watches happily as she laughs into the phone.

"Thank you. Thank you, yes, we're very excited. And _surprised!_ "

* * *

 **2 Days Later…**

"Have you had a transvaginal ultrasound before?" Naomi, the sonographer, asks kindly.

"I've had one or two, yes," Liv answers, shifting down on the bed, setting her feet in the stirrups.

"Alright, we'll just get started then. You probably remember, it can feel a little strange, but it shouldn't be too uncomfortable."

She glances at Fitz, who smiles reassuringly, and then focuses on the screen.

They wait while Naomi gets the transducer in the right spot, gently moving it around until she finds what she's looking for.

"I see a baby," she sing-songs happily, zooming in, positioning her cursor over the baby's fluttery little heart, "You are _definitely_ pregnant."

She presses a button and the heartbeat fills the room, a strong whooshing sound.

"I'm getting one hundred and forty-five beats per minute for the heart rate, that's perfectly normal," Naomi tells them, saving the image.

Liv is mesmerized, watching their baby wiggle around on the screen, looking over at Fitz every so often. He's grinning from ear-to-ear, equally as focused on the tiny being reflected in black and white.

"Just going to take some measurements here," she says absently, clicking a couple of buttons.

Liv grimaces as Naomi twists the probe slightly to get a better angle, trying not to move.

"Sorry, hon, I just need this angle."

"I'm such a baby about these, I'm sorry," Liv apologizes, laughing a little.

"Oh honey, don't apologize," Naomi says, stretching a line on her screen from the baby's head to its bottom, saving the measurement, "Some women can't feel anything at all up around the cervix, and some would swear this thing is a hot poker. It's totally normal."

"I don't think I have _that_ level of sensitivity, but I can definitely feel it."

Naomi is quick, pushing buttons and snapping images with lightning speed, and before they know it she's finished.

"Alright, Olivia, you can get dressed. I'm going to show the images to Dr. Stanton and she'll be right in okay?"

"Great, thank you."

Fitz hands her pants and underwear over to her as Naomi leaves the room, and she stands up to get dressed.

"Do they lube that thing up?" he asks after a moment.

She bursts into laughter, sitting down to pull her pants on. "Yes, she did."

"What?" he laughs, "I was just curious."

"It's so weird, I'm not a fan."

She slips her heels back on and sinks into the chair next to him, sighing and taking a sip of the water he hands her.

"Well," he sighs, making a show of reaching his arm around her, "Here we are. Just a couple of old folks in the ob/gyn office."

Liv giggles, tipping her head against his shoulder for a moment. "Couple of oldie oldersons, that's what we are."

The door opens and Dr. Elise Stanton bursts in, a ball of excitement. "You guys!"

They both laugh, standing up to hug her.

"Warn a doctor will you?" she laughs, pulling her stool over, setting Liv's chart on the bed, "Liv, I saw you on my schedule when I looked on Monday, and then when I looked this morning there was a note!"

"I know—"

"' _Patient called, had positive home pregnancy test'_. I almost fell over!"

" _You_ almost fell over?" Olivia laughs, settling back against Fitz's side, "We certainly weren't trying."

"You're excited, then?"

"Yes," she nods, smiling, looking at Fitz, "We're really excited."

"Well, that's wonderful, I'm so happy for you two, congratulations."

She leans in when Fitz kisses her temple, closing her eyes for a moment. "Thank you."

"So, everything looks great so far. Your blood pressure is great, baby is looking great, we don't see any early signs of a genetic disorder. Baby is measuring ten weeks, four days, and that matches the date you gave us as far as your last period."

"So, I'm almost eleven weeks," Liv breathes, unconsciously resting a hand on her stomach, "What's my due date?"

"February fifteenth," Elise answers after a moment, checking her chart.

"A February baby," Fitz says softly, smiling at her.

"What about bloodwork? For the genetic tests?" Liv asks, furrowing her brow slightly.

"You're right on the cutoff for a couple of the genetic testing options, but you basically have all of the same options that you had last time, given that you're over thirty-five. We can draw your blood today in the office, if you know what you'd prefer."

"We'll just do the standard high-risk panel," she says, glancing at Fitz to confirm, "The same one we did last time."

"Great! I'll let them know, one of the MAs will do it right in this room."

After another round of hugs, Elise leaves them alone to wait again, and Fitz reaches for her hand.

"February," he muses quietly, "We'll have to get him a tiny little snowsuit."

Liv smiles, leaning in to him. "Or _her_. We'll have to get _her_ a tiny snowsuit."

"Do you want to find out again?"

"Yes," she murmurs, smoothing his waves with her hand, "I'll do what I did last time, and then we can find out together."

* * *

 **6 Days Later…**

"Mommy!"

As soon as she comes home from work, Micah attaches himself to her legs, squeezing tight.

"Hey, you!" she greets, struggling to set her bags down, finally crouching down to hug him, "Did you have a good day?"

"We goed to coloring!"

"You _went_ to coloring," she corrects gently, touching his nose, "Was it fun?"

"Yeah! I can show you!"

"Show me, show me," she breathes, standing up and offering him her hand, letting him drag her into the kitchen.

"Look, Mommy! It's Henry!"

She cranes her neck back for a kiss when Fitz comes to greet her, keeping one eye on Micah's painting. "Wow, Micah! _Hi_. Whatever you're cooking smells _really_ good."

"Teriyaki wings," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around her from behind, resting both of his hands over her flat belly.

"Micah, this is…this is actually really good," she says, surprised as she picks up his artwork.

"We did brushes, and a, umm, a, umm—"

"A big kid pencil," Fitz jumps in, helping him.

"Yeah, a _big kid_ pencil."

"Did you help him with this?" she asks Fitz, holding his drawing of a turtle up.

"Nope," he shrugs, kissing her neck, "We brought a picture of a real turtle, because we were supposed to bring _inspiration_ this week—for three year olds, mind you—and he went to town. A pencil and watercolors. You should take him sometime, he gets _so_ quiet and focused."

She turns to Micah, who is mashing a piece of playdoh into the table. "What do you think? Can Mommy come to art class next week?"

"Yeah!"

"Do you want to listen now or later?" Fitz asks her quietly.

She turns in his arms, unable to keep the smile off of her face. "Now."

He stares at her for a moment, grinning stupidly. "Micah, Mommy and I just have to go in the living room for a minute, okay? Can you make me a snake with your playdoh?"

"'kay," Micah says absently, tongue sticking out in concentration as he sculpts.

They go out into the living room, and settle onto the couch with her cell phone, pausing for a moment before she presses play on the voicemail.

"Ready?" she asks him breathlessly, squeezing his hand.

"Play it!" he laughs excitedly, nodding his head toward her phone.

She presses play.

" _Hi Olivia, this is Margo from Dr. Stanton's office. Okay, so, like I told you over the phone this kiddo isn't showing any signs of common trisomies thirteen, eighteen, or twenty-one, totally healthy and normal. And—now here's the part where you said you needed to wait for your husband, hopefully you've grabbed him—we are not detecting a Y chromosome, and we're detecting genetic material for two X chromosomes, which means you're having a girl…_ "

Neither of them hear the end of the message as they stare at each other.

"Oh my god," she whispers, covering her mouth.

She drops her phone between them as he immediately seizes her up into a hug. "A girl, Liv. A _girl_."

And then they're laughing, squeezing each other tightly.

"A _healthy_ , baby girl," she sighs, relieved, burying her face in his neck.

* * *

 **A/N: For those who might not know, when you choose to have genetic testing these days, they check to make sure the sex chromosomes are normal and can therefore tell you baby's sex really early! Having a lot of fun writing this, next one will most likely focus on telling big brother...Let me know what you thought!**


	46. Angry

**A/N: This is an insert for the finale 6x16.**

* * *

 _This man._

He's _angry_.

His kisses are fierce, bruising, _sexy_.

"I like you angry," she breathes, unzipping his pants, reaching into his boxers

He growls, drawing the flesh behind her ear into his mouth and sucking hard. "I'm not angry, I'm _furious_. You drive me _insane_."

She grabs a handful of his curls and pulls, making him look at her. "Fuck it out, then. Punish me."

Her voice is soft, submissive, _pleading_.

He stares at her with dark eyes, unconsciously rocking his hips as she strokes him, challenging him, giving him permission.

His kisses push her into the pillows, and he yanks her hands away from his body, pinning them over her head. "You are _not_ in charge, in here. Who _is_?"

" _You_ ," she whimpers, letting him pin her down, trying to get him to kiss her again.

Olivia melts beneath him, opening her mouth to his tongue, moaning as he rips the sheet away from her body. He drags his hands over her, roughly squeezing her breasts, groaning at the feel of her warm skin.

"It's almost like you _want_ to make me angry," he growls, biting her bottom lip, sucking away the sting.

"Maybe I do," she whispers.

 _That same tone_ , the one that had drawn him over to her in the first place.

"Stop talking to me like that."

"Why?" she moans, arching as he takes a nipple into his hot mouth, gently tugging at his hair, "Too much?"

She squeaks as he flips her over abruptly, pushing his pants and boxers off.

" _Not in charge_ ," he grits out, covering her body with his, rubbing the head of his cock through her wetness.

Her hips rock back and she whimpers his name, letting her head fall forward, exposing the back of her neck to him. He exhales there, and then bites down, making her shiver violently against him.

" _Fitz_."

He's teasing her, gently pressing his tip against her core over and over. He presses in a little bit, just enough to give her a taste of the stretch, and then pulls out, listening as she gasps and pants.

"Why should I give you what you want?" he rasps into her ear, spreading his fingers out to palm her low belly, controlling the arch of her hips, "You've been mean to me all day."

"I can be nice," she murmurs, reaching to cup the back of his head, encouraging the press of his lips against her skin.

"Can you?"

She moans as he draws one hard circle over her clit, rocking her hips back. " _Yes_."

He loops an arm just beneath her breasts and pulls her up, her back to his chest, using the hand covering her belly to press her hips back. She starts to sink down, and he grasps her hips, holding her up, making her whimper.

"Tell me you're sorry," he commands softly, watching her chest heave.

Her hands squeeze his where they hold her hips, begging him without words to let her go, to let her down onto him.

"'m sorry, baby," she whispers, nuzzling her face into his neck, swallowing thickly, "Baby, _please_."

He noses her temple, breathing against her skin, and lets go of her hips so that she can lower down. They both moan as he slips inside of her, panting, settling together. She rests her weight back against him, brows furrowing in pleasure as he presses her down, helping her take him deeper.

"Not in charge," he reminds her softly, sliding his hands over her possessively.

She hums and laces her fingers with his, one cupping her breast, the other playing between her thighs, gently teasing her where they're joined. Their hands are tangled, but she doesn't try to control, letting his movements guide her own. He uses both of their fingers to slowly rub her clit, picking up a hard, lazy rhythm with his hips. It makes her sigh and moan, thighs shaking as she turns her face into his neck.

Her breath comes faster with each thrust, until she's panting, soft, high moans escaping on each exhale.

" _Ha—harder—_ "

The way she begs him for more makes him growl, and he slides his hand from her breast, up to gently grip her neck, snapping his hips up. She melts into him, tipping her head back to rest against his shoulder, holding his forearms.

Slowly, gently, he tightens his hand around her throat, squeezes, and her breath stutters, catching in her chest.

He instantly feels her pulse around him, and then she's crying out as she comes hard, unable to keep her hips still anymore, rocking against his fingers.

" _Fuck_ ," he groans, using both hands to cup her hips.

It only takes him a few more thrusts to follow her over the edge, groaning into her neck, letting her move over him, stroking him with her muscles.

 _Fuck it out, then_

And he has, indeed, fucked it out, because all he can feel as they come down is love for her. All he wants to do now is hold her, and breathe her in, because he's going to _miss_ her.

They've spent every night together for the past two weeks, and he's going to _really_ miss her.

She carefully lifts her hips until he slides from her body, and then completely rests her weight on him, sinking back into his arms, reaching up and around to stroke her fingers through his hair. He hums low in his chest, wrapping his arms around her, pressing warm, slow kisses over her neck.

" _Baby_ ," she sighs, turning her head to rest her lips against his cheek.

Her chin is trembling, and he knows she's feeling it too, the weight of their impending separation.

" _Shh…c'mere_."

They're quiet as they take a moment to clean up with some tissues, to dim the lights and settle down onto the bed. As soon as he lowers himself into her arms, they fall into a long kiss, sighing happily.

"Mmm," he murmurs, kissing her more deeply, sweeping his tongue into her mouth, "You taste like…what is that? Raspberry cheesecake?"

Her _favorite_ White House dessert.

"Albie sent it up," she says softly, smiling into his soft kisses, "He must have made some for the inauguration tomorrow, I ate it right before you got here. In bed. Naked. Felt extra decadent."

Fitz chuckles, nuzzling his nose against hers. "You should have waited for me, I'd have fed it to you."

"Oh, _please_. You'd have eaten all of it, I didn't wait for you on purpose."

 _That_ makes him belly laugh, and they have to stop kissing for a moment while he laughs into her neck.

"You're so right. I'd have stolen at least half of it."

She giggles, fingers playing in his curls, humming happily as he softly kisses her neck. He picks his head up and settles his forearms on either side of her, pressing a sweet kiss against her forehead. Their eyes meet and they sober, letting the weight of the night sit on them for a moment.

"I'm going to miss this," he admits quietly, cradling the side of her face.

She nods, eyes blinking rapidly with emotion. "Me too."

Both of her hands slide over his neck, cupping his jaw, drinking in every angle and edge of his beautiful face. Her thumbs stroke gently back and forth over his skin, sliding over his lips and resting there until he puckers into a kiss beneath them. They share a smile, soaking in the tenderness of the moment.

"You know what else I'm gonna miss?" she asks softly, meaningfully tracing his lips with her index finger.

He grins wolfishly, because she's _asking_ him for it, and it's incredibly sexy.

"Hmm," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss her slowly, "My charming addiction to scotch?"

She shakes her head, slipping her tongue into his mouth.

"Umm, let's see…my luscious hair?"

Kissing his way down her body, he feels her stomach clench with laughter, feels her hands tangle in his hair as he kisses across her hips.

" _Ooh_ …you mean this?"

Settling his open mouth over her core, he lazily sucks a warm, wet kiss there.

"Yes… _yes_ …don't stop…"

He licks her out for long, breathless, _endless_ minutes, making her moan and writhe, holding her against his wicked mouth. He fucks her with his tongue, fucks her with his fingers, sucks her clit into his mouth, _all_ of her favorite things.

All of _his_ favorite things.

* * *

 **A/N: Been sitting on this one for a few weeks, finally got it finished up. Hope you enjoyed, let me know what you thought!**


	47. The First Big Change III

_**A/N: A few quick glimpses into Liv's pregnancy with #2...**_

* * *

 _ **13 Weeks…**_

"Poppy!"

Eli turns around just in time for Micah to crash into his legs at full speed.

"Whoa there," he chuckes, gently patting Micah's back, "Yes, young man, what can I do for you?"

"C'mon Poppy, come see," Micah insists, starting to drag him across the yard.

"I guess I'll be right back," Eli shrugs, nodding to the other adults on the patio.

"Micah, be nice to Poppy, okay? His bones are getting brittle," Liv teases, taking a sip of her lemonade.

Eli turns to narrow his eyes at her, letting Micah pull him along. "Watch it, Ms. Pope."

"Ah, it's Ms. Pope- _Grant_ now," she corrects him playfully, holding up her finger.

"Poppy, look!"

Micah drags him away before he can come up with a snappy retort, desperate to show him the pile of rocks he's collected.

"I feel a little bad," Olivia laughs, turning to Sandra, "He's barely let Dad sit down since you guys got here."

Sandra shakes her head, waving her off. "Oh, please, honey. He adores that little boy, he's _loving_ this."

"Well, I think the feeling is mutual. Hey, mister, how are those ribs looking?"

Fitz comes back over from the smoker, rubbing his hands together. "They're ready any time. They are going to be _so_ good, I'm telling you, that dry rub is magic. What are those two doing?"

Eli and Micah are crouched in the far corner of the yard, heads bent together.

"Rocks," Liv says, simply.

Fitz nods knowingly, picking up his iced tea. "Your dad finally has someone to be nerdy with, it's cute."

"I consider myself to be about as nerdy as they come," Sandra says, "But no one is quite as obsessed with rocks as Eli. Until Micah, that is."

"What is it with little boys and rocks?" Liv muses, smiling affectionately at her son.

"Well I'm sure sh—"

Fitz catches himself, about to say that their little girl is sure to want to do everything her big brother is doing.

"Those potatoes should be done, don't you think? I'll go grab the salad," Liv says, smoothly changing the subject, sharing a secret, tender look with him.

They're going to reveal their news, but not until a little later.

* * *

After dinner on the patio, they send Micah back out into the yard to explore, which he does happily.

"So," Liv says slowly, trying not to smile too brightly, "We have some news…"

"Ooh," Sandra says excitedly, taking a sip of her tea, " _News_. I'm intrigued, go on."

"Well," Liv smiles, glancing at Fitz, suddenly unable to contain herself, "We're going to have another baby."

There's a pause.

Sandra and Eli are silent, staring at her in shock, mouths open.

"What?!" Sandra exclaims, finally, setting her cup down, "You're pregnant?"

Olivia laughs, enjoying their reactions. "Yes! I'm almost thirteen weeks."

"Oh my god, Eli, she's pregnant."

Eli looks like he's still in shock, staring at his daughter until Sandra elbows him. "I know, I heard her. Wow. Just—"

He gets up and walks around the table, pulling Olivia up out of her seat and into a hug. She makes amused eye contact with Fitz and Sandra over his shoulder, completely caught off guard by his reaction. He hugs her for a few seconds and then pulls back, taking her by the shoulders.

"Congratulations, sweetheart," he says quietly, eyes watery.

She looks at him tenderly, in shock that he's so emotional. "Well…thanks, Dad. We're really excited about it."

"This is…this is wonderful news."

"There's more news," Fitz chimes in, smiling at Liv.

"Oh, right! You tell them."

"We're having a girl," he announces, grinning.

"Oh, a girl!" Sandra exclaims, clasping her hands together, getting up to hug them, "One of each. Oh, this is so exciting!"

After Sandra has gotten her fill of squeezing them, and patting Liv's stomach, they settle around the table again.

"How long have you known?" Sandra asks, still smiling excitedly.

"Well," Liv starts, sharing another look with Fitz, "Funny you should ask…only about two weeks. I thought she was menopause."

Eli and Sandra laugh as the couple describes finding out about the pregnancy, listening with delight.

"And so, we saw her heartbeat, all of her genetic tests came back normal and everything, so, it all looks good so far," Liv sighs happily, relaxing in her chair.

"And, have you told big brother yet?" Eli asks, glancing over to where Micah is depicting a rather animated conversation between two of his animals.

"Not yet," Fitz says, tipping his head thoughtfully, "We're not sure whether he'll really 'get it' yet, you know? He's a smart kid, but a baby in Mommy's belly might be kind of tough, especially since she's not even showing yet."

"Yeah, we're going to tell him, obviously. But we'll probably just start casually mentioning it, and then when I'm actually getting bigger we'll try to help him make the connection," Liv agrees, resting a hand over her stomach.

"Oh, he's going to be a great big brother," Sandra adds, "He's such a gentle soul. He'll love her."

"I hope so. And…"

Olivia pauses, gathering her words.

"…this might go without saying, but, we want both of you to be part of her life. I mean, you're officially 'Poppy' and 'Mimi' now, you're already part of her family. We don't want her to miss out on that."

Eli's eyes fill with tears again, and Sandra reaches for his hand. "It's such a joy, being grandparents. We wouldn't have things any other way."

* * *

 _ **20 Weeks…**_

"… _follow follow follow follow follow the Yellow Brick Roooaaaddd_ …"

Micah hops around the living room, singing along while the Munchkins serenade them from the television, outlining Dorothy's path to the Wizard.

Olivia and Fitz look on from the couch, amused, as always, by their toddler's antics. She takes his hand and moves it slightly where it rests underneath her shirt, putting him in a better spot to feel the baby kicking.

"Oh, I felt that one," he grins, glancing down at her where she's curled into his side.

She hums, smiling down at her belly. "She's been flipping around in there after dinner lately, you'd think I was eating straight sugar."

"Oh no, Daddy, the witch is coming!" Micah says, making a running leap onto the couch.

"No, she's not coming back yet, bud, don't worry. The Scarecrow is coming next, remember?"

"Oh yeah," he giggles, starting to crawl over top of them.

Fitz scoops him up before he can crawl directly over Liv's belly. "Oh, let's be careful around Mommy, okay?"

"Why?"

They glance at each other, silently deciding that Liv should be the one to start the conversation.

"Well, because I have a baby in my belly."

Dorothy and the Scarecrow are talking, a part that never really holds his attention, so he's able to focus on this brand new, bizarre concept.

"A baby?" he asks curiously, letting Fitz sit him on his lap.

"Yeah, a baby."

"A baby bird like our nest?"

"No," Fitz chuckles, shocked that he remembers the baby birds from the springtime, "A baby like…like baby Josie from Henry's house."

"Oh. Henry got a baby sister," Micah says thoughtfully, "She cried."

"That's right," Liv says softly, thankful for the frame of reference, "And guess what? You're going to have a baby sister too."

"In my room?" he asks, eyes wide.

"No, not in your room," she smiles, "She'll sleep in Mommy and Daddy's room when she comes, and then she'll have her own room when she's bigger."

"So that's why we can't jump on Mommy, okay? There's a baby sister in her belly, and we don't want to squish her," Fitz adds, trying to re-emphasize the most important part of this particular conversation.

Micah's brows furrow and he lifts up his shirt. "Is it in my belly too?"

"Nope, just in Mommy's belly. Here, let's look."

Fitz pulls up his own shirt, figuring a comparison might be the best way to help Micah understand.

"See, how your belly is all flat, and Daddy's belly is flat too?"

Micah nods, clearly paying attention.

"Now, look at Mommy's belly."

Olivia lifts her shirt, revealing her rounded stomach. "See? My belly doesn't look like yours and Daddy's. It's bigger, because your baby sister is in there."

"Oh," Micah says with fascination, reaching a hand out to gently pat her stomach.

"That's exactly right, we want to be so, so gentle with Mommy," Fitz encourages, "And so, so gentle with the baby too. Okay?"

"Okay!" Micah agrees, hopping off of his lap as the next song in the movie starts.

They both laugh as he starts to dance around again, more entertaining than the movie itself.

"Think it's starting to sink in yet?" Fitz asks her quietly, slipping his hand back under her shirt.

Liv narrows her eyes, making a skeptical face. "Maybe a little?"

* * *

 _ **29 Weeks…**_

Fitz pushes their bedroom door open, and she perks up excitedly.

"Did they have it? You didn't answer my texts."

Fitz sighs, holding up his plastic bag. "Eleven-thirty on a Friday night? Of _course_ they had the mac and cheese burrito."

" _Yes_ ," Liv hisses, almost clapping her hands with excitement, "Hand it over, mister."

He smirks, watching her sit up, crossing her legs beneath her belly. "You are _such_ a cliché this time around."

"Shut up. Don't care," she says, spreading a napkin out over the comforter, reaching for the bag and pulling her burrito out.

By the time she gets it unwrapped, Fitz has stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers, climbing back into bed. "Although, I think this is the most normal thing you've—"

Before he can finish his sentence, she's grabbed a jar of hot fudge sauce he hadn't noticed before, dunking the burrito into it. She takes a huge bite and moans, completely lost in her own world for a moment. When she finally looks over at him, he's watching her with a horrified expression on his face.

"What?" she shrugs nonchalantly, dipping the burrito again before she takes another bite.

" _Really_?"

"Do you want a bite?" she asks, eyes widening encouragingly.

" _No_."

"Good. Because I'm not sharing."

He shakes his head, laughing quietly, watching the pure _joy_ on her face as she keeps eating.

Halfway through the burrito, she sighs contentedly, happily stretching her legs out. Her shirt has ridden up slightly, exposing a slice of her belly, and he's hit with a powerful wave of affection.

"You are _so_ freaking cute."

She giggles, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "I don't know if you can be cute at forty."

"I'm sure lots of people can't, but you _are_ ," he smiles, turning on his side to watch her.

"You know, I'm really glad this is simultaneously the pregnancy where I've gotten weird cravings, and the pregnancy where I've decided to let you fuss over me," she sighs, wistfully eyeing her last few bites.

"Yeah, me too," he laughs sarcastically, laughing even harder when she pretends to look offended.

She shoves him playfully, smiling in spite of herself. "You love it."

"I do," he grins, nodding.

Her eyes widen, suddenly, and she laughs softly. "Baby girl likes this, too."

"Oh, does she?"

She pushes her shirt up and reaches for his hand, guiding it to the side of her belly.

 _Thump…thumpthump…_

"Feel her?"

"Mmm-hmm," he smiles, pressing gently, leaning in close, "Hi, little girl. Listen, let's not encourage Mommy's weird food combinations, okay? I know it gets _really_ exciting in there—"

Liv giggles, falling back against her pillows.

"—but, seriously, Daddy's getting traumatized—"

"—stop," she giggles, "You're gonna make me pee."

"I'm not even that funny," he laughs, watching her wipe a tear away, "You're just _giggly_. What the heck is this baby doing to your brain?"

"I don't know," she says, both hands going to her belly, "But I'm not mad about it, I hope it lasts."

He hums, pressing his lips against her skin, murmuring quietly. "Daddy loves you. Love you, little girl. I can't wait to meet you. We still need to talk about names—oh, Livvie."

Now she's crying, silent tears running down her face as she watches him talk to their baby.

"I'm so happy," she sniffles, running her fingers through his hair, "I feel _crazy_."

"You're not crazy," he chuckles, sitting up to kiss her, "You're just pregnant. And full of weird food."

"Stop," she laughs, wiping tears away, rolling into his arms.

* * *

 _ **35 Weeks…**_

"Daddy?"

Fitz turns away from the sink, a little unnerved by Micah's soft, careful tone.

"What's wrong?" he asks, drying his hands on a dishtowel.

"Mommy's sick," Micah says, looking worried.

Fitz immediately walks to the kitchen doorway, alarmed by any number of things that could be wrong with his pregnant wife. Instead, when he turns the corner, he spots her on the couch, sound asleep. Instantly, his heart rate slows, and his worry turns into amusement at the realization that their son has probably never seen his Mommy take a nap before.

"Oh, no, bud," Fitz says quietly, crouching down to loop his arm around Micah, "She's not sick, she's just sleeping."

"Why?"

"Because she's extra tired. She's taking a nap."

"Oh. Mommy needs a nap?"

"Yeah, she needs a nap. She's really tired from having your baby sister in her belly."

"Oh. Can we take the baby out now?"

Fitz's heart melts at the sweetness of his son wanting his Mommy to feel better. "Not yet, but pretty soon the baby will come out."

"How does the baby come out?"

 _And, there it is. Damnit._

"Well," Fitz sighs, trying to decide how best to gloss over the process, "When it's time for the baby to come out, Mommy and Daddy will go to the hospital so a doctor can take the baby out."

"I get to come too?"

"No, you're going to stay here, just for a little while. Aunt Abby is going to come play with you, and then you can come see us."

"Oh. When is Aunt Abby coming?"

"I don't know yet, she'll come over whenever the baby tells us she wants to come out."

"The baby's gonna tell us?"

"Yup, she'll tell us. Hey, how about we go play in your room for a little while, so Mommy can finish her nap?"

"Okay," Micah agrees happily, skipping toward the stairs.

* * *

She wakes up to the feeling of soft lips on her cheek, her neck, her forehead…

"Time for dinner, sleeping beauty," Fitz murmurs, kissing her nose affectionately, "Need to feed that little jelly bean in there."

Humming contentedly, she blinks her eyes open and smiles at him, stretching as well as she can with a big belly. "I don't know who you're talking about, because this little girl feels like a _big_ , jelly bean."

"She's not that big," he chuckles, stroking her stomach.

"I know, that's the crazy part," she laughs, hand sliding down to cup her belly, "She's not measuring big at all. I think it's my body's act of self-preservation, growing small babies. I can't imagine what an eight or nine pound baby would feel like."

"Uh, I have to tell you, by the way, that our son thought you were sick. He's literally _never_ seen you take a nap before, what does that say about your workaholic tendencies?"

She laughs again, pillowing her head on her forearm. "He did not!"

"He did. He came to me all worried, ' _Daddy, Mommy's sick_ '," he recounts, imitating Micah's little voice.

"He's so sweet," she murmurs, reaching out to run her hand through his hair, "I can't wait for this little one to be out, he's going to be so sweet with her too. I know he will be."

Fitz hums in agreement, letting her pull him close for a few soft kisses.

"I don't know if I'm really ready to be done though," she continues softly, rubbing a hand over her belly, "I've loved being pregnant this time. I love feeling her in there, she's been my little buddy for eight months."

He smiles, kissing her again. "Well, you've still got a few weeks left. Plenty of time to soak it up."

* * *

 **A/N: I wanted to show a bit of Liv's pregnancy but I don't want to drag it out, because I know you guys are anxious to meet Baby Girl Grant. Well, get excited because the birth chapter is ALREADY WRITTEN. I'm going to post it on Friday, so check back then! Leave me guesses for her name in the reviews! (I've already named her, FYI).**


	48. The First Big Change IV

_**38 Weeks, 5 Days…3:00am**_

 _Ow…ouch…ugh…I need to turn over, my back hurts…okay…here we go…_

Olivia drowsily shifts, hauling her belly from one side to the other.

… _okay…sleep…ow…gosh, it's really sore…okay, that's better…_

She drifts for an indeterminate amount of time, reaching out with her hand, finding Fitz's arm and sighing in contentment.

… _ouch…okay, wait a minute…_

Immediately, she's awake, one hand going to her belly, rubbing slowly.

"You kicking me, little girl? I can't tell," she murmurs, blinking in the darkness.

And then, beneath her hand, she feels her belly tighten, a spasm that wraps all the way around into her back. It's not enough to take her breath away, but it's not a Braxton Hicks contraction either. It hurts, and it feels like…something.

"Fitz," she whispers, not wanting to shock him out of sleep, "Fitz…Fitz…"

She rolls her eyes, and starts to poke him when he doesn't respond.

"Fitz…oh my god, _Fitz_!"

He startles, taking a deep breath, finally squinting his eyes open, picking his head up. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just, I feel…something."

"What do you mean you feel something?"

"I woke up, and I felt what might be a contraction, but—"

Fitz sits up, reaching for the light. "You're having contractions?"

"Ack! I _might_ be! Did we really need the light on?"

"Are you having contractions or not?" he asks, still a little bit stupid with sleep.

" _I don't know_ ," she says slowly, flopping back against her pillow, "I should have waited to wake you up, I—oh—"

Her hand goes to her belly again, rubbing in circles. Still not enough pain to breathe through, but enough to make her want to close her eyes and pause for a moment.

"Liv, you're having contractions," he grins, annoyingly excited.

"Can you please turn the light off? We still have hours," she sighs, opening her eyes.

"Aww, this is exactly how your labor started last time. You were all grumpy and mad at me, and I was so excited—"

His teasing works and she cracks a smile, blinking up at him sleepily. "Well, if this _is_ the start of labor, we won't have much more time to relax. So, turn the light off, lay back down, and hold me."

His eyes warm, and he leans over to turn the light off.

After he helps her turn over, he scoots in close to spoon, letting her pull his arm around her. She has the forethought to grab her phone, opening her contraction timer app, and then laces their fingers together against her belly.

"She's quiet in there," Liv murmurs, stroking her belly with their hands, "I think she knows something's up."

"It's weird to think about, isn't it? That right now she's inside of you, like, a full-sized baby, and that we could be holding her soon."

He feels her belly tighten up and they pause until the contraction passes.

"I can't wait to hold her," she whispers, taking a deep breath, "And kiss her cheeks, nurse her, rock her. I can't wait. Fitz, these are only five minutes apart. I think this is the real thing."

* * *

They've only been timing her contractions for an hour when she has to start breathing through them.

"I think you should call Abby," Liv breathes, trying to sit up, "We need to make sure someone is here with Micah."

Fitz helps her up, rubbing her back. "Okay, just relax. Relax and focus, let me take care of the phone calls okay?"

She nods, closing her eyes as another one starts.

"Go, Fitz," she grits out, noticing that he's still next to her, putting pressure against her lower back, "I'm alright, start getting everything together."

He quickly gets out of bed, heading downstairs to grab their list off the fridge.

She's barely out of bed, reaching for a pair of leggings, when the most painful contraction she's felt yet wraps around her abdomen. It makes her sink to the floor, onto her hands and knees, taking long deep breaths, rocking slightly. It takes her a moment to recover, and before she knows it she's breathing through another one, starting to hum low in her throat, still on the floor.

On another break, she hits the button on her phone to check the time, and panic rises inside her when she realizes she's had four contractions in the space of about ten minutes.

 _This is happening, and_ _ **fast**_

Calling for Fitz is out of the question, at the risk of waking Micah, so she stays where she is, trying to keep breathing.

When he finally comes back she doesn't even notice, trying to cope with the increasingly unbearable pain in her back. His demeanor instantly changes when he finds her on the floor, and he's at her side in seconds.

"Liv?"

She looks up, still breathing. "You need to get the secret service here, _now_."

Alarmed by how much she seems to have progressed in such a short time, his eyes widen and he gets up again.

"Wait," she whimpers, reaching for him, "Wait, just—just push on my back for a second— _oh_ —"

He's quickly back at her side, kneeling beside her to massage her lower back, helping her through the next contraction. "Are you okay like this? You didn't want anything to do with this position last time."

She takes a deep breath as it passes. "I didn't even think about it, it was just instinct. Fitz, call the secret service, we need to go, these are so close together."

"Okay, it's okay, relax. Do you need help getting dressed?"

They move around in two-minute increments for the next thirty minutes, getting ready in between contractions.

By the time their secret service escort arrives she can barely talk, and when she can she's asking random questions.

"It's freezing, do we have a hat for her?"

"We have a hat," Fitz soothes, next to her on the floor in the foyer, hands on her back, "The hospital will have hats too."

"Okay…okay…is Micah okay?"

"He's sleeping, I checked on him and he's just fine. Ben is going to stay until Abby gets here from the city, he'll be _thrilled_ to see her when he wakes up."

"Okay…oh my— _Fitz_ …"

"Let's go, Liv, we need to go."

* * *

The thirty-minute ride to the hospital is a blur of pain, so all-consuming that she barely notices when her water breaks all over the back seat of the car.

Whatever pain she'd experienced with Micah was nothing compared to the intense, squeezing, stabbing pressure she's feeling now. It's all she can do to breathe through it, to keep her moans low and controlled instead of screaming in agony. Each one consumes her like a tidal wave, enveloping her whole body, like every single nerve is connected to her uterus. Labor feels _violent_ this time, like she's being ripped apart from the inside out. The contractions make her writhe in her seat, until she absolutely cannot sit anymore, ending up on all fours on the floor of the SUV.

Somewhere along the way she realizes that she has an uncontrollable urge to push, and that scares her.

 _You cannot push…you are still in a car…you_ _ **cannot**_ _push…_

But the pressure is too intense, too heavy, and sometimes she can't help it, bearing down with the squeezing, cramping force.

Finally, _finally_ , the car stops.

* * *

They're barely through the hospital doors when another contraction slams into her and she stops in her tracks, knees bending. Fitz slings their hospital bag over his shoulder, catching her under the arms right before she sinks to the ground in the lobby.

"Okay, I've got you," he murmurs, bending over, encouraging her to wrap her arms around his neck, "Hold on to me, okay? Breathe."

She can't talk, groaning through the intense pain, leaning on him with almost her entire body weight.

As soon as she's able, she sits down in the wheelchair that an escort has wheeled up, and they practically run into an open elevator.

 _Sixth floor, we just need to make it six floors_

"We're almost there, Liv, hang on," Fitz soothes, trying to calm her down amidst his own panic.

"I can't sit, holy sh—"

She drops out of the wheelchair, getting down on her hands and knees inside the elevator, gasping through the pain.

"My back, _please_ , push on my back," she moans, trying to catch her breath.

He's beside her immediately, pressing hard against her lower back. The elevator dings on the third floor and Fitz curses, wondering why there isn't an express elevator for women in active labor.

The doors open to reveal…Elise Stanton, dressed in scrubs, clearly on her way in to meet them.

"Hey, you guys!" she exclaims cheerfully, completely unperturbed by the chaotic scene inside the elevator, "I am _not_ going to have time to eat this granola bar, am I?"

She takes one look at Olivia and switches into doctor-mode, quickly stepping into the car.

"Olivia, we're almost there, can you get up?" she asks, reaching to take the hospital bag from Fitz, who gives her a confused look.

"I don't—I _can't_ —oh my _god_ —"

"Alright, Fitz, pick her up, we need to move quickly here."

"What?" he asks, looking up at her, still providing counter pressure.

Elise raises her eyebrows. "Unless you want me to deliver this baby in the elevator, pick her up, and put her back in the chair."

He springs into action as the doors open again, maneuvering his protesting wife back into the wheelchair, holding on to her as they race down the hallway and into a room.

There's an immediately flurry of activity, nurses coming in and out, equipment being turned on, questions being asked. Elise drops Olivia's bag and her own bags in the corner of the room, asking for a mask and gloves before she turns her attention back to her laboring patient.

"Olivia, are you pushing? It seems like you're pushing," Elise asks, kindly but urgently, trying to get a handle on the situation.

"I can't—I have to—oh my god—"

She's barely aware of her position, because her body has taken over, instinctively trying to get this baby out all on its own as each contraction rips through her. Fitz's scent registers, and she realizes she's on her knees, on the hospital bed with him standing in front of her, arms wrapped around his neck for support. She feels him lift her so that someone can tug her leggings and underwear off, and she immediately spreads her knees further, bearing down involuntarily.

"That's great, Olivia, if you like this position, keep pushing. She's right here."

"She _is?!_ " Liv gasps, gaining enough awareness to express her shock.

Elise smiles at Fitz, whose chin is hooked over Liv's shoulder as she hangs on to him, nodding to him to indicate that everything is okay. "Baby girl is right here, you're doing so great. Take a couple deep breaths, okay? Push whenever you feel like you need to."

" _Fitz…Fitz…_ "

"You've got this," he murmurs against her ear, "I'm right here. Elise is here, we're ready, we made it."

She feels delirious, like she can't control _anything_ that's happening, the most random thoughts popping into her head.

" _Oh my god. I still have my shirt on. I can't move. Is she okay? Fitz, are you okay_?"

He chuckles, making eye contact with Elise again, holding more of her weight. "I'm fine, don't worry about me, I've got you."

"Are _you_ okay like this, Olivia?" Elise asks, trying to take advantage of her patient being temporarily present, "Just breathe, you're okay. I know you're scared, but everything's fine."

"I can't move," she whimpers, groaning, " _Oh_ …she's moving down."

"That's alright. Push, push, push, just like that."

She hadn't even realized she was pushing, but suddenly she loses her awareness again, unable to focus on anything except the overwhelming _heave_ of downward movement. It feels like she's turning inside out, and she starts to cry, both from the pain, and the realization that her daughter _really is_ about to be born. Everything heaves again, and she cries out into Fitz's shoulder, pushing hard into the burning pressure.

And then suddenly everyone is cheering for her, and she _feels_ her daughter's head deliver, feels every curve and edge of her small body slip free, as Elise guides her safely out onto the bed.

" _Great_ job, Olivia! Happy birthday, baby girl, whew!" Elise laughs, taking the bulb syringe from her nurse and suctioning the baby's mouth, smiling when she starts to cry loudly.

Liv immediately reaches down, still crying, reaching for her baby, letting Fitz and the nurses help her lay down.

" _Hi, baby girl…hi…come here…oh my god, hi…oh, you're beautiful…Fitz, she's perfect…_ "

Fitz is at her side, pressing his lips to her temple, eyes wet. "She's so perfect, you did it, Liv."

Nurses are moving her around, turning lights on, setting her legs into stirrups so that Elise can finish the delivery, but she's not focused on any of it. It's just her new baby girl and her husband, as far as she can tell.

Just this new, perfect, little human, and the man she loves.

"Hi, little one… _oh_ … _hi_ ," she sobs, tucking a blanket around her, watching as she cries intermittently, trying to decide if she's still upset or not.

Liv takes a few moments to catch her breath, sniffling quietly, kissing her daughter's forehead. Eventually, the baby quiets, brows furrowed, big eyes blinking slowly.

"It's bright, huh?" Fitz coos quietly, reaching out to touch her tiny hand, "Yeah…it's a big day. Happy birthday, sweet pea."

"What just _happened_?" Liv breathes, letting her head fall back against the bed, looking around when everyone laughs quietly.

"A 'second-time mom' delivery is what just happened. _Warp_ speed. She fell out of you, basically," Elise laughs, kind eyes looking up over the top of her mask.

It makes Olivia smile and she laughs breathlessly, looking at Fitz, tipping her chin up for a kiss.

"Wow," she whispers, looking down at her daughter, "You are perfect. Hey, you. Yeah. You're perfect."

After a few minutes, one of the nurses comes around with a pair of sterile scissors. "Dad, you're on. Ready?"

"Yeah, of course," he smiles, taking the scissors, cutting the umbilical cord precisely where they've shown him.

The baby starts to cry again as their nurse takes the opportunity to rub her down a bit, cleaning her up, swapping out the blanket she's covered with.

"Oh, it's okay, my love," Liv murmurs, snuggling her close, "There we go, there's your little hat. _Hi_. Hi, baby. I know that was so fast, huh? What happened? Mommy's got you, shh."

Olivia shifts her, cradling her properly now that they're separated, and the baby immediately starts to root a little bit. It's so _different_ , doing this a second time, because she knows exactly what those little grunting noises mean, she's instantly able to recognize what her daughter is doing.

"I want to nurse her," she murmurs to Fitz, suddenly realizing she still has clothing on.

"Here, you want some help?" he asks, standing up.

"Just take her for a minute, I need to get this off. Go see Daddy," she coos softly, letting Fitz carefully scoop her up, watching as he takes the opportunity to wrap her a little more tightly.

"Hey, you. Hi. Oh, I know, we're gonna get you what you want, just one second peanut."

Elise pauses what she's doing, and the nurses help Liv out of her shirt and bra, covering her with a fresh sheet.

"I don't want her weighed yet, I want to breastfeed first," she comments to the nearest nurse, realizing she hasn't even had time to get anyone's name.

"We're not gonna take her anywhere, don't you worry," the older nurse says kindly, "She's yours until you tell us otherwise, mama."

"Okay, come here, ladybug," Liv murmurs, reaching for her baby as soon as she's settled back down.

Cradling an infant to her breast is a familiar motion now, and she gently rubs her nipple against her daughter's lips, watching as her tiny mouth instinctively opens wide. And just like that, she's latched, suckling contentedly for the first time. The most powerful rush of emotion surges through her, and she's crying again without even realizing it, rocking her gently.

"There we go, bug. There we go. Oh, I love you. I love you."

A little while later, Elise sighs and stands up, removing her mask and gloves.

"You're all finished, Olivia, one tear, okay? Same place as last time. We'll talk about it in more detail before you go home, but just let them know how much pain relief you need. You'll be fine, I'm sure," she smiles, walking up to the top of the bed, looking down at the still-nursing newborn.

"Okay, thank you," Liv breathes, barely noticing as she's covered and settled fully onto the bed, "I can't thank you enough, for being on call for us. And thank you for—I don't really remember everything that just happened, but I'm sure you were very calm and wonderful."

"Oh, it's my pleasure. We almost never get to do this anymore, we're always just on call for whoever comes in. I'm glad to have special patients like you guys, this is more in line with what I always imagined when I became an OB. I'm so glad to be able to meet her," she explains, gently stroking the baby's head, "Do you guys have a name, by the way? The suspense is killing me."

Liv sighs, watching her daughter start to fall asleep at her breast. "We have a couple of options but, I don't know. What do you think, Daddy?"

Fitz stares at his youngest for a moment, and then leans down to whisper in Liv's ear. Her eyes fill with tears and she nods, stroking the baby's cheek with her finger.

"This is Ruby," Fitz announces, gazing down at her, "Ruby _Elise_ Grant."

Elise's eyes widen slightly, and she clears her throat, smiling in surprise. "Well, that's beautiful. And I'm honored."

* * *

"Our little Ruby," Fitz smiles, holding the swaddled newborn in front of him, cupping her head in his palm, "Look at those _eyelashes_. And those _cheeks_. You're gorgeous. Yes, you are. I feel very lucky you know, I barely got to hold your brother in the hospital. Mommy hogged him the whole time—"

"Hey! I'm _right_ here," Olivia pipes up from the bed, talking around a mouthful of her breakfast sandwich.

"How's that sandwich?" he smirks, switching his hold on Ruby, cuddling her against his chest.

" _Starving_ ," she answers, taking another huge bite, "Don't even tease me right now. You'd be starving too if you pushed a baby out in ten minutes."

He laughs, kissing the baby's head. "I _never_ tease you about being hungry when you're pregnant or breastfeeding, I know better than that."

She smiles, relaxing back against the bed, watching them affectionately. "She doing okay?"

"Mmm-hmm," he hums, gazing down at their new addition, "You're comfy, right? It's pretty nice, cuddling with Daddy."

"Come here, closer," she says softly, reaching for him.

"Uh-oh," he murmurs, moving from the recliner in the corner, to the chair beside her bed, "Mommy's gonna steal you soon, I can feel it."

"I'm not," she giggles, shaking her head, "I just want to _see_ her. She just came out two hours ago, I feel like I don't know what she looks like yet."

"I know what you mean," he agrees, smiling at her, "You just want to examine every inch of them."

"She _does_ have long eyelashes, doesn't she?"

"Yeah, and she has those same pouty little lips that Micah has. They both have your lips, thank god."

"She has way more hair than he did, though. Look at all those little curls."

Fitz hums, pressing kisses against her head.

"You should do skin-to-skin with her," Liv says softly, laying back in bed again, "She looks so content with you, she'll love it."

"Yeah?" he grins, gently stroking Ruby's back.

"Mmm. It'll be good to get her un-swaddled too, we can practice nursing again in a little while. Here, I'll unwrap her. C'mere, my love."

She takes the baby and undoes her tight swaddle, while he grabs one of their own blankets from her hospital bag, pulling his shirt over his head.

"Oh, no fussing, bug. You're gonna like this, I promise," she coos softly, keeping her loosely wrapped, leaning down to kiss her plump little cheek, "I love you."

Ruby whimpers quietly as he takes her back from Liv, protesting the feeling of the air against her skin. But as soon as she's settled against his warm chest, covered with a blanket, she falls asleep.

"There," Fitz murmurs, tucking the blanket around her, "See? Nice and warm. Micah used to like this, but it seems like she might like it even more."

"I can't get over her. She's so precious."

"She's _tiny_ ," he breathes, reclining back further into his chair, "Six pounds, two ounces, she's officially the smallest baby I've ever held."

"We make tiny babies, evidently," she muses, tucking in to her sandwich again, "My boob already looks huge next to her little head, and my milk isn't even in yet."

Fitz chuckles, and then stills, closing his eyes, breathing in his daughter's new-baby scent.

"I can't wait for Micah to meet her," Liv says softly, feeling emotional at the thought, "I hope he loves her."

After about a half hour of watching Fitz hold her, Olivia gives in.

"Okay, I want her," she admits pitifully, laughing a little and reaching her arms out.

Fitz chuckles, immediately standing up to pass Ruby over to her. "I think it's time, she wants Mommy, too. I can tell."

She's wearing an old robe from home this time around, and she loosens the top, settling the baby against her chest and tucking her inside. Ruby fusses and whimpers for a moment, rubbing her face against Liv's chest, and then quiets, giving in to sleep again.

"Oh, there's my sweet girl. Hi, ladybug. _Hi_ ," she sighs, pressing gentle kisses to her head, "How's the world so far, bug? It's a lot, I know, you've had a very big day already, and it's still _morning_. Oh my god, not holding her feels like I'm going through withdrawal."

Fitz laughs at her, pulling his shirt back on. "You're like a drug addict."

"I am," she laughs, snuggling the baby, "I needed a hit, in a major way. It's not my fault, it's hormonal! I'm supposed to be bonding with her."

"I'm teasing you, Livvie," he smiles, sitting down next to them again, "You _do_ need to hold her right now. Get that breastfeeding bond going, like you did last time."

"Yeah, we'll practice again in a couple minutes, huh?" she says softly to Ruby, stroking her cheek, "You're too sleepy to cue right now I think, so we'll just put you on there, see how it goes."

"I love all of your lingo. 'Cueing' and 'latching', you're such a pro now."

She smiles, glancing at him and then gazing down at Ruby. "I don't know about that, but I learned a few things with Micah. We'll see if they apply to this little lady, she's her own person, after all."

When she looks up, he's leaning in to kiss her, cupping her face.

"Thanks for having our babies," he murmurs, kissing her softly.

She kisses him back, cuddling their daughter. "Thanks for making babies with me."

* * *

 **A/N: Baby Ruby is here :-) I'm in love with her, hope you guys are too! Next chapter will be a day of bonding in the hospital, and meeting big brother for the first time.**


	49. The First Big Change V

"Daddy!"

Micah charges into their hospital room, straight into Fitz's arms.

"Hey, buddy," Fitz laughs, squeezing him tight, "Did you have a fun morning?"

"Yeah! I waked up, and—and, _Bee_ was coming in my room!"

"She _was_?! That's so fun, were you surprised?"

Abby walks over to Liv's bed while they boys re-unite, bending down to give her a long hug.

"Thanks for bringing him by," Liv says, hugging her best friend, "We missed him."

"Uh, like I would miss the opportunity to meet my new niece?" Abby says incredulously, looking down into the bassinette next to the bed, "Oh my gosh, _look_ at her, she's _gorgeous_."

Liv nods, smiling affectionately at Ruby. "I know, we're already pretty much obsessed with her."

"Hi, Mommy!"

"Hey, you," she smiles, opening her arms as her first baby crawls up the bed and into a hug, "How are you? I missed you this morning."

"I played am'nals with Bee!"

"You _did_?! Oh, I bet that was really fun, huh?"

Micah nods, and then tips his head with concern. "Umm, yes. Mommy, are you sick?"

"No, baby, I'm not sick, I'm just fine," she reassures him, stroking his curls.

Almost immediately, the baby catches his attention, and he points at her curiously.

"Oh. Mommy, that's, umm, thass a baby?"

"It _is_ a baby, you're right. And guess what? That's _our_ baby, that's your baby sister."

"It's my baby sister?"

"Yes! Remember, we've been talking about how there's a baby sister in Mommy's belly?"

Micah pats her belly, no longer full of baby but still round. "Hi, baby. Mommy, the baby sister is right here."

"Well, now baby sister is right _there_. She's not in Mommy's tummy anymore."

He looks back and forth between the baby, and her belly, massively confused. Ruby makes a few little noises, squirming slightly and drawing his attention, and Olivia decides to skip over the belly-to-world transition.

"She really wants to meet you. Do you want to meet her?"

"Yeah," he breathes in wonder, eyes locked on the infant, forgetting all about his confusion.

Fitz walks over to scoop up the sleeping baby and hand her to Liv, looking on as his two youngest kids meet for the first time.

"Here she is," Liv says softly, trying to get Micah to match her calm demeanor, "This is your baby sister. Her name is Ruby."

"Ruby?" Micah asks, watching Liv settle the baby against her thighs so he can see her.

"That's right, her name is Ruby. Do you want to say hi to her?"

Micah stares at his sister curiously, reaching out to touch her blanket. "Hi, Ruby."

"Hi, Ruby," Liv echoes, eyes filling with tears as she watches them together.

He uses both hands to lean on Olivia's thigh, getting _very_ close to the baby's face.

"It's a baby sister?" he repeats, still checking her out in detail.

Liv smiles and wipes her eyes, trying to stop crying. "Yup, this is your baby sister."

"When did she came-ed here, Mommy?"

"She just came here this morning, she's brand new."

"Oh," he breathes, moving one hand, now trying to lean directly on the baby to get even closer.

"Oh, oh," Liv corrects gently, moving his hand, "Don't push on her, okay? We have to be so, so careful because she's really small, right?"

"Yeah, she's _really_ small," he echoes, moving his hands and getting close again.

The three adults in the room watch him stare at her, amused by how quiet and contemplative he's being. He's now so close to the baby's face that it's comical, looking her over, taking it all in. Liv looks up at Fitz, pulling a face to show that she's _barely_ holding it together.

"What do you think of her, bud?" she asks after a moment, trying not to laugh and cry at the same time.

"She's good," he mumbles absently, patting her gently.

"Yeah? You can touch her, if you want," she encourages, wanting him to be careful, but not wanting him to walk on eggshells around her.

Micah deliberately reaches out with one finger, touching her tiny nose. Ruby's face twitches, and he giggles, looking up at Liv, who crinkles her nose and smiles back at him.

"Isn't she cute?"

"Yeah," he agrees, touching her chin, then her lips, "Mommy?"

"What, baby?"

"The baby is sleeping?"

"Yup, she's sleeping. She's really tired."

"Why?"

"Because she was just born today, and that made her really tired."

He fidgets on the bed, readjusting himself, reaching out to gently touch each tiny curl on Ruby's head. "Oh. She's tired, from being borned?"

"Yeah, she's really tired. See, how sleepy she looks?"

"Mommy?" he says, suddenly sitting up and looking right at her, very serious.

Olivia matches his expression, giving him her full attention. "What?"

"Umm, I wanna, umm, we can see her feet?"

"You want to see her feet?" she repeats, stifling a laugh, "Okay, we can look at her feet."

She undoes the bottom of Ruby's blanket, keeping her wrapped except for her tiny feet.

"There they are, what do you think?"

Ruby moves her legs, squirming and stretching.

Micah touches her feet, each toe, grabs her foot and lifts it up. "Mommy, I can see her toes."

"Her toes are so tiny, huh?"

"Yeah," he giggles, still touching her feet.

At that moment, Ruby makes her annoyance at having her feet touched known, grunting and letting out a little squawk.

Immediately, Micah sits up looking concerned. "Mommy, she cried."

"I know, that's okay. She just doesn't really like when her feet aren't wrapped up," Liv reassures him, wrapping Ruby back up.

Still looking very serious, Micah takes a deep breath and sighs, gently patting Ruby's head. "S'okay. We can cover your feet, baby."

Her heart melts, more tears welling up in her eyes. "That's so gentle, Micah, good job, pumpkin."

"Hi, baby," Micah chirps loudly, leaning in close to Ruby's face again, "Hi, baby sister. Mommy, thass my sister!"

"That's right, this is your baby sister! You're her big brother, that's a very important job."

"Yeah, I'm a big brother," Micah says proudly, repeating what they've been telling him for the past few months.

"Yup. And remember we talked about how you'll get to be best friends with your baby sister, and teach her things, and keep her safe."

"Yes, I will, I will teach her my am'nals, and we can go in the snow!"

"Right!" Liv laughs, reaching out to stroke his hair, "You're such a good big brother. Hey, do you want to hold her?"

Micah's eyes get big, and he nods excitedly. "Yeah!"

"Okay, sit down right here on your bottom," she says, patting the bed.

He crawls around and sits down next to her, cuddling in to her side.

"Okay, here you go," she murmurs, laying the baby in his lap, showing him how to cradle her, "You're her big brother, so hold her tight, okay? Keep your arms just like this, so she's safe."

"Okay," Micah agrees, looking down at his sister, "Mommy, _I_ wanna hold her."

Liv keeps her hand underneath Ruby's head, not fully trusting her toddler to protect her newborn's wobbly little neck. "You _are_ holding her, bud. I'm just helping a little bit. Hey, look, she's looking at you."

Ruby's blinking her eyes open, wiggling a little bit.

Micah giggles, touching her nose and lips again. "Hi, baby. Baby, you like honey nut Cheer-oh-ohs?"

"Are you gonna share your cereal with her?" Liv asks, giggling as Micah nods emphatically, "That's so nice, buddy."

"She can eat some, Mommy?"

"Well, we might have to wait until she's a little bit bigger, okay? Babies like to drink milk."

"Hey, Micah, look at Daddy. Say cheese!"

Fitz is standing at the end of the bed with his cell phone, poised to take pictures. He snaps a few and then Abby grabs his phone, shooing him into the picture with them. They take a couple more pictures, and Fitz gets up to look at them.

"Bee! This is my sister!"

"It's your baby sister?!" she whispers excitedly, coming over to sit with them, "Oh my gosh, can I see her?"

"Yeah, she's right here," he says, as if it's obvious.

"Oh, okay," Abby says softly, reaching out to stroke Ruby's head, "She's pretty cute, huh?"

Micah nods his head, resting his hand on Ruby.

"What's her name? Do you know?"

"Yeah, her name is, umm, Ruby. This is baby Ruby!" he announces excitedly, already owning his role as big brother.

"Hi Ruby," Abby coos, letting Micah introduce them properly, "Liv, she's so beautiful."

"I know," Liv sniffles, bending to press a kiss into Micah's curls, "She's perfect. Here, I know you want to hold her."

"Of course I do, gimme," Abby smiles, reaching for the newborn.

"Micah, can Bee have a turn holding Ruby?"

" _Careful_ , Bee. She's little," Micah scolds, brows furrowing as Abby cradles Ruby.

Abby stifles a laugh. "Okay, I'll be careful big brother, I promise."

"Daddy, we made pancakes with choc-lit chips!" Micah exclaims, hopping off the bed.

"No way, buddy!" Fitz laughs, bending down to talk to his son.

"Chocolate chips?" Liv asks, raising an eyebrow at Abby.

Abby shrugs, rocking the baby gently. "I figured it was a special occasion, what with him becoming a big brother and all."

They all visit for an hour or so, until Olivia starts to yawn uncontrollably, and Micah starts to get bored.

"Hey, Micah," Abby says excitedly, crouching down to his level, "Guess what we're going to do today?"

"What?" he breathes, eyes wide with excitement.

"We're going to the aquarium to see the fish!" she announces, clasping her hands together.

He gasps, bouncing up and down. "Mommy! I'm seeing the fish with Bee!"

"You are?!" she exclaims, mustering enough energy to be excited with him, "Oh, you are such a lucky boy."

Fitz lifts him back on to her hospital bed, and then takes Ruby from Abby.

"I want you to come too, Mommy!"

"Well, how about if I come next time. I have to stay here with baby Ruby today."

"Why?" he asks, brows furrowed.

"She's a _brand new_ baby, and she doesn't know anything about the world yet," she explains, trusting that he'll understand if she's honest with him, "She doesn't know how to eat, or sleep, or get dressed or _anything_. And she has to stay here until tomorrow, so Mommy and Daddy are going to stay with her so we can take care of her. And then tomorrow we'll all be home together, okay?"

Micah thinks about this for a second, playing with her hospital bracelet.

"Okay," he sighs, making no effort to hide his disappointment, "Tomorrow you can make my sandwich?"

She laughs softly, hugging him close. "Yes, tomorrow I'll make your sandwich. But guess what?"

"What?"

"Tonight, you're going to have a sleepover with Bee."

His face lights up with excitement, and he looks over at Abby, hopping off the bed. "Bee! You are gonna sleep _over_?!"

* * *

One semi-successful nursing session and a long nap later, Fitz gets a call that a new shift of secret service personnel has arrived with food for them.

"I'm going to go out and say thank you," Fitz says, slipping his shoes back on.

"Say thank you for us too, please," Liv smiles, sitting up in bed, Ruby sleeping on her chest, "I'm going to see if I can get her to wake up and eat again."

He winks at her, closing the door on his way out.

"Are you gonna wake up, bug?" Liv asks her softly, using her index finger to stroke her cheeks, "It's time to try to eat again. We have to keep practicing. Yeah. Oh my gosh, you're so cute. I can't take it."

She lifts the baby a little higher, kissing her forehead, using her fingertips to tickle her back.

"Wake up, little sleepy girl. Ruby," she sing-songs, "I don't want to make you cold, but I might have to. You won't like it."

She gently lays the bundled infant down in front of her, untucking the edge of her swaddle blanket. Ruby stirs slightly, turning her head, making little noises, pursing her lips. Liv's heart melts, and she leans down to nuzzle her cheek, pressing kisses there as she unwraps her.

"There," she coos, gently running her hands over her skinny body, marveling at her soft, new, baby skin, "What do you think? Hmm? We need to fatten you up. Look at these little legs."

She rubs the bottoms of her feet, and right away, Ruby makes a face, squirming and grunting. Finally, her eyes slowly blink open, and she yawns widely.

"Oh, I know," Liv laughs softly, slipping her hands underneath to pick her up, "What a day, huh? Hi. Hi, baby. C'mere, my love."

She lifts her close to kiss her cheeks, her little nose, and then cradles her when she startles and flails, starting to whimper.

"Okay, baby, here we go. Let's try, okay?" she murmurs quietly, offering the baby her nipple, watching as she blinks and fusses, "I know, it's all so different, huh? I know."

Ruby latches shallowly, still trying to wake up.

"Not quite," Liv mumbles, slipping her finger into the baby's mouth to break her weak suction, "You won't get very much food if you try to eat like that, little one. Let's try again, bug. Mommy will help you, don't worry. We'll get it."

They get another shallow latch, and Olivia smiles patiently, holding Ruby close so she doesn't get too cold and upset. Her sucking is getting more enthusiastic, little smacking sounds escaping as she tries to eat, but it's still not quite right.

"I need a third hand," she muses, laughing softly as she breaks the suction again.

She switches her hold on the baby, cradling her tiny body against the length of her forearm, gently cupping her head in the same palm. She uses her other hand to lift her breast, watching carefully as Ruby's little mouth opens in protest. In one coordinated motion, she brings baby to breast, deliberately tucking more of her nipple into the baby's mouth. Immediately, Ruby's lips splay out and her suck gets stronger.

"There we go, that's better. That's better, huh?"

As soon as she tries to cradle Ruby in one arm, she comes off of the breast and starts to fuss.

"Oh, that's okay, little peanut, let's do it again. You had it."

She repeats the process and gets a good latch again, watching her baby calm instantly as she starts to nurse.

"There. How's that? That feels pretty good to me, and you look pretty happy, so you must be getting some food. I know, you're so sleepy, huh? It's tough, being born, I know it. But you're going to be a good eater, I can already tell. And once you're a little more awake you won't have to be naked, we can just have snuggle time."

She carefully slides her arm back underneath Ruby to cradle her close, still using the opposite palm to help keep her in place. Fitz comes back into the room, smiling when he sees that they're nursing.

"How's she doing?"

"She's doing a good job, this is our best time yet," Liv coos, gazing down at Ruby, "She's working hard, huh? Yeah, nursing is hard work. But you're doing a good job, bug. She definitely seems hungry, she was a little mad when I kept making her try again. Speaking of hungry…"

Fitz holds up the bags of food. "Our secret service agents love us."

"I'm _starving_ ," she says, her face lighting up.

He pulls two tray tables over and starts setting out their feast. Two burgers, shoestring fries, milkshakes, cherry pie—

She starts to laugh when he pulls out a large container of macaroni and cheese, another of coleslaw, and a third container of seasoned, curly fries. "Holy crap. Were they hoping we would share?"

"I think they just realized that we probably only had access to hospital food," he grins, fishing around in the bag and coming up with two plastic forks, "And that one of us needed lots of calories."

"I'm going to have to wait until she's finished, I don't want to stop her now. She just got into a good rhythm," she murmurs, watching Ruby nurse.

Fitz smiles, leaning closer to watch her, and sure enough she's actively sucking every few seconds, breathing through her nose in between. "Oh, look at her. She's getting the hang of it."

"I need to help her with this hand, though. She's still new at this, huh?" Liv says softly, referring to the hand that's cupping Ruby's head, "I bet in just a couple days I'll be able to cradle her in one arm. You should eat though, you don't have to wait for me."

"Livvie," he admonishes, tucking a curl behind her ear, "Do you honestly think I'd make you watch me eat? You? My starving wife, who is currently nursing our child?"

He's being silly, and she giggles, watching as he sweeps an arm over their spread of food.

"What are you in the mood for first?" he asks, grandly, "As you can see we have a myriad of choices."

"Curly fries, please," she grins, watching as he pulls the container over and plucks a fry out of it.

He holds it out for her and she opens her mouth, letting him feed her. She moans gratefully, savoring the perfectly spiced, crispy morsel of fried goodness. Chuckling quietly, he opens the coleslaw, digging his fork into it.

"Mmm. I love Pete's. How did they know we love Pete's?" she asks, accepting another fry.

"Dunno," he shrugs, answering around a mouthful of coleslaw, feeding her again, "I mean, they've seen the delivery guy at our front gate on more than one occasion. They're secret service, they pay attention."

" _Oh_ ," she breathes, eyes wide, "Do you know what I want tonight?"

Fitz grins, feeding her another fry and standing up. He walks over to their hospital bag and reaches all the way down to the bottom, coming up with a bottle of her favorite red wine.

"Come over here, so I can kiss you," she gasps, laughing in surprise.

He strolls back over, setting the bottle down and leaning in for a kiss. "Baby, I've got you covered."

"I just want a couple sips. Just a little taste, to celebrate."

"You can have whatever you want, Livvie."

"Look at this sleepy girl," she smiles, looking down at their daughter, "Hey, you. Don't fall asleep yet."

She tickles the bottom of Ruby's foot and she takes a big shuddery breath, waking up and starting to suckle enthusiastically again.

"There you go, bug. Couple more minutes," she murmurs, watching her blink sleepily.

Fitz reaches over to take her tiny hand, letting her fingers curl around his index finger. "She's just so cozy. She just wants to _sleep_."

Liv giggles, opening her mouth for another fry. "I know. I remember having to wake Micah up too, those first couple days."

They chat and eat for a while longer, until Ruby starts to fall asleep again.

"Okay, baby. Do you have a full tummy now? Hmm?"

"Think she needs to burp?" Fitz asks, taking a sip of milkshake.

Olivia shrugs, carefully sitting the baby up on her thigh, cradling her head when it tries to flop forward. "Probably not, but I'll give it a try. A nurse showed me this while you doing paperwork this morning, watch."

Supporting Ruby's head with her hand cupped beneath her chin, she gently bends her forward, and then sits her up again, carefully folding her, repeating the process a few times. It doesn't take long for a small burp of air to escape, and Ruby blinks sleepily, looking wonderfully milk-drunk.

"That's so cool," Fitz grins, wiping his hands on a napkin, "Does it just squish her stomach a little bit?"

"Yup," she says, snuggling the baby skin-to-skin against her chest, where she drifts off almost immediately, "That nurse said she works with preemies sometimes, and it's just a gentle way to burp tiny babies."

"I'm stealing her again soon," he murmurs, watching Liv tuck her inside of her robe again, "I need more sweet pea cuddle time."

Liv hums, pressing kisses to Ruby's head, breathing her in. "Mmm…we'll see if I feel like sharing. I might just keep my little bug right here, Mommy's prerogative. Right, baby?"

"You're gonna have to sleep eventually," he threatens teasingly, starting to clear away their leftover food.

"And? We napped like this all afternoon, what makes you think we won't be sleeping like this tonight?"

"What happened to your sharing spirit from this morning?" he laughs, pulling his pajama pants out of their bag and quickly changing into them.

She smiles, kissing Ruby's head again. "Maybe we should ask her what _she_ wants."

"Oh, well, that's not fair. You're the one with the boobs, of course she'll say she wants you."

"I think we're getting delirious," she giggles, sliding over to make room for him on the bed, "We're not even sleep-deprived yet."

Fitz's phone buzzes with a text as he settles on to the bed, and the photo makes him chuckle. He turns the phone to show her, and it's a selfie of Abby and Micah making fish faces, standing in front of a huge tank at the aquarium.

"He's having the time of his life."

"He was so sweet with her this morning, wasn't he?" Liv smiles, glancing down at Ruby when she squeaks and sighs in her sleep.

He loops his arm around her, letting her cuddle into his side. "I was really proud of him, he was _very_ good with her. I wasn't sure how he would do when she was actually here, even though we've been talking about it. He's never seen you hold another baby before."

"There's still plenty of time for him to be jealous, but, I think we'll be okay. We'll both be home with them for a few months, that will definitely help."

They both stare at Ruby for a few moments, watching her snooze peacefully, cheek pressed against Olivia's skin.

"How are you feeling?" Fitz asks softly, sighing deeply as they settle down together for the first time all day.

"I'm sore," she admits, tipping her head against his chest, "But she's more than worth it."

* * *

 **A/N: Baby is here and big brother approves! For now...hahaha Hope you enjoyed it!**


	50. The First Month Home With Two: I

**A/N: Shit gets real when you bring a new baby home...**

* * *

 _ **3 Days Old…**_

He's on the bed when Olivia comes to stand in the bathroom doorway, topless, holding warm washcloths against both of her breasts.

"I need help," she says pitifully, looking embarrassed and closing her eyes.

Fitz closes his laptop, sliding off the bed. "Are you okay?"

She leads him into their bathroom, stopping in front of the sink. "I need to hand-express some of this milk, but I can't do it. They're too tender, I need you to do it."

"You don't want to pump?"

She grimaces and shudders. "That would be agonizing."

"Okay," he agrees softly, rubbing his hands over her shoulders, "Same thing happened with Micah, didn't it?"

"Mmm-hmm," she nods, leaning back against him, still holding the compresses to her breasts, "I just need a little relief for like, the next hour, and then I'll feed her again. I'm happy that I can make so much, but we have to equilibrate. Are you sure this doesn't gross you out? I know you did it last time, but…"

"Of course it doesn't," he scoffs, still massaging her bare shoulders, "I mean, I don't like hurting you. And seeing your boobs the first time you were breastfeeding was a little eye-opening, but—"

Liv giggles softly, remembering him staring at her in shock at random moments.

"—I'll help you any way you need me to."

"This kind of gory experience just makes me nervous. We don't have that many boundaries left in our relationship, I just need to know if I'm missing where we need to draw the line—"

He laughs at how serious she's being, leaning down to kiss her shoulder.

"—I'm serious!" she says, eyes widening, "We should have a line, somewhere, shouldn't we?! So that you still want to have sex with me after all of this?"

"I am _always_ going to want to have sex with you," he insists, leveling his gaze with hers in the mirror.

She sighs, trying to ignore the unbearable fullness in her breasts. "Every time I think we've found the line, I'm wrong. It wasn't period sex, it wasn't holding my hair back while I threw up for three months, it wasn't sending you out to buy Preparation H—"

"—period sex is _great_. I mean, it's pretty much shower sex, by default, and I think a lot of guys don't realize how sensitive women can be while they're—"

"Where's the line, Fitz? Where is it?" she argues, starting to sound a little bit annoyed.

He realizes the best thing to do might be to indulge her, so he thinks for a moment, making a show of tipping his head back and humming in thought.

"Okay. I have no problem _buying_ the tampons, but if you asked me to actually—"

" _Ahh!_ " she laughs, shaking her head back and forth, "Don't even _say_ that! Seriously? The line is that far back?"

Laughing with her, he shrugs and kisses her shoulder again. "Liv, you're not some untouchable fantasy woman for me, and I don't want you to be. I'm under no delusions that you're not a real person, with a real body, and I love every single part of this body. You carried both of our babies in this body, which is _incredible_ , and it was hard work, and I'd be less of a man if I couldn't handle everything that comes along with that. Any 'line' that we have is only going to be there because _you_ draw it, because you want to keep something private, or it makes you more comfortable. And I'm fine with that, because I respect you, you know that. But don't ever feel like you can't be real around me, okay? I can handle it."

She nods, smiling tearfully at him in the mirror. Sighing, she removes the washcloths, grimacing as she leans over the sink.

"Are you going to collect it in that?"

"May as well," she says, reaching for the plastic container she'd grabbed from the kitchen, "We won't express very much, and she won't get a bottle for at least a month, hopefully. But, we can still freeze it for later."

He rubs his hands together to warm them, not wanting to undo the work she's just done with the warm compress. Without hesitation, he reaches around her and gently puts one hand on her left breast. It's _very_ firm, and he can't imagine what her chest must feel like right now.

"'Kay," he mumbles, looking over her shoulder to get his fingers in the right spot, "Ready?"

She nods, hissing as he starts to express milk, her hand squeezing the edge of the sink.

"Sorry," he says, nuzzling her shoulder.

"Don't be sorry," she grits out, "You're helping so much. I can't bring myself to do this when they're this sore, it's faster if you do it. But it's probably not the kind of pain you're thinking of. It's like massaging a muscle spasm."

They're quiet, working to make her more comfortable for a few minutes. When she's satisfied with the relief, she straightens up, stretching her neck.

"Oh my god, thank you," she breathes gratefully, resting her forehead against his chest for a moment.

He chuckles, rubbing her back. "Any time, Livvie."

* * *

 _ **5 Days Old…**_

Fitz opens the front door with a smile, and Sandra immediately envelops him in a hug.

"Oh, congratulations," she says excitedly, squeezing him tight.

He chuckles, hugging her back. "Thank you, great to see you guys."

"Can I come in please?" Eli teases, trying to squeeze in past her and out of the cold.

"Well, yes, dear, of course," she clucks, letting Fitz go and stepping out of the way, brushing snow off of her coat.

"Come on in," Fitz grins, shaking Eli's hand, letting the two of them take off their coats and boots, "It's not too bad out there, is it?"

Eli shakes his head, hanging up Sandra's coat for her. "Not really, it's slowing down a lot now."

The three of them move out of the foyer and into the living room, where Micah's sitting on the floor watching a movie.

Olivia smiles from her spot on the couch when they come in, sitting up a little bit. "Hey, guys."

"Honey, don't you dare get up," Sandra reprimands immediately, "You just had a baby, lie back down."

"Mimi!"

"Hello, my dear," Sandra laughs, kneeling down to hug him when he runs over, "Look at your little red nose, were you outside?"

"Yeah!" he tells her excitedly, "Me and Daddy went in the snow!"

"You did?! Oh, that sounds like fun, did you make a snowman?"

"We tried," Fitz laughs, settling onto the far end of their large sectional.

Eli makes his way over to the couch while they talk, eyes drawn to the newborn snuggled on his daughter's chest.

"Here she is, Poppy," Liv says softly, folding down the soft, warm blanket covering Ruby so that he can see her better.

She's dressed in a fuzzy lavender sleeper, snoozing peacefully.

"She's beautiful," he murmurs, kneeling next to the couch, turning his head to study her face for a moment, "How about you? Are you feeling alright?"

"I feel great," she smiles, picking up one of Ruby's tiny hands, "Tired, but, wonderful."

"Poppy, did you see my sister?" Micah asks, trotting over to them.

"I see her," Eli confirms, holding his arm out so that Micah can come in close too.

"Yeah, thass my sister," he says proudly, reaching out to gently pat her head, "She's a baby."

"And are you helping Mommy, and being a good big brother?"

"Umm, yes, I can get the wipes."

"Yup, he brought me some wipes yesterday," Liv nods, gently patting Ruby's back when she shifts and sighs in her sleep, "And—"

"—and I got a blanket."

"That's right, he always makes sure we have plenty of blankets."

"Well, that's very good," Eli smiles, glancing over at Sandra as she sits down on the other side of the couch.

"Hey, Micah," Liv says quietly, "Do you think Ruby wants Poppy to hold her?"

"Yeah!"

Eli immediately looks apprehensive. "Oh, I don't know about that, the last time I held a baby was probably… _you_."

"Poppy, you gotta hold her. Ruby wants it," Micah argues, suddenly advocating for his little sister.

"Yeah, c'mon, Poppy," Liv smiles, carefully holding Ruby against her chest as she sits up, wrapping the blanket loosely around her, "She likes you already, I can tell. Micah, show Poppy how you hold a baby."

"Okay, Poppy, watch," Micah says, crawling up onto the couch, eager to demonstrate, "You gotta sit on your bottom, and then, umm, you hold your arms like this."

Eli copies his grandson, letting him lead the way.

"Good job," Liv murmurs, placing Ruby in Micah's arms for a moment, "And you have to support her head, right?"

"Yup. You can do it, Poppy."

"Your turn, Dad," Liv says, not really giving him much of a choice.

"Alright, well, I suppose if Micah can do it…"

But she's already standing up, lowering the baby into his arms.

"Just keep her covered up," she says softly, pulling her hands away after Ruby's settled, tucking the blanket around her, "We thought these pj's would be warm enough, but we've discovered this little ladybug _hates_ being anything less than toasty."

Sandra scoots in close, peering down at the baby. "Oh, look at this precious girl. She's adorable."

Ruby sighs in her sleep, smacking her lips, and Olivia watches her father visibly melt, eyes glued to his granddaughter's little face.

"Hello, little one," he coos quietly, "I'm your Poppy."

* * *

 _ **10 Days Old…**_

Soft whimpers start to rouse her from sleep.

By the time she's awake enough to sit up, Ruby is crying pitifully, squawking and taking big, deep breaths.

"Oh…oh, shh," Olivia soothes, lifting the tiny baby from the co-sleeper attached to their bed, "Come here, my love, I'm right here. I know, shh…"

She cradles her little one to her breast, watching as she quiets and latches easily, suckling instinctively. The familiar feelings of warmth and protectiveness wash over her, and she closes her eyes for a few moments, concentrating on the way her last baby feels in her arms, soaking it in.

* * *

Fitz's bladder wakes him up around two-thirty am.

When he rolls over, he's greeted by the sight of his wife trying to soothe their newborn, shushing her softly, gently rubbing her back.

Ruby's not really crying, just fussing quietly, little whimpers of ' _ehn…ehn…ehn…_ '.

"Hey," he murmurs, sitting up in the dark, "How's my sweet pea?"

"Ooh, you have perfect timing. I think she wants you, Daddy," Liv smiles, blinking sleepily.

He chuckles, moving to get out of bed. "I'll take her. Let me pee first, hold on."

When he comes back, she's unsnapping the front of Ruby's sleeper, just enough so that she'll be able to feel his warmth on her skin.

"Okay," he sighs, climbing back into bed, reclining against the pillows, "Come here, sweetheart."

"I think she has a burp in there, so maybe keep rubbing her back," Liv murmurs, carefully passing the baby over to him.

He settles her on his bare chest, waiting while she fusses and squirms, getting comfortable.

" _Ehn…ehn…ehn…_ "

After just a few moments, her little body stills, her breathing evening out, her fussing sounds becoming fewer and fewer.

"There we go," he murmurs, gently rubbing her back, "Daddy's got you. Did you just want to be extra warm and cozy?"

Liv cuddles into his side, yawning, watching their daughter fall asleep. "She _loves_ sleeping on you. I can't say I blame her, you're very comfortable."

"There's nothing better than having a sleeping baby on your chest," he muses, pressing a soft kiss to Ruby's head.

"I know, it's my favorite too," she whispers.

* * *

 _ **3 Weeks Old…**_

"No, Mommy, I want _you_ ," Micah whines, hanging on her legs.

She's nursing Ruby on the couch, eating popcorn left over from movie night, and they've been negotiating with their toddler for ten minutes straight.

"I can't, baby. Ruby's eating right now, okay? Daddy's going to read to you, and I'll come say goodnight before you fall asleep, I promise. I love you, okay?"

"No," he whimpers, eyes filling with tears, "I want _you_ to read."

He's clearly a little overtired, even though it's not _too_ far past his bedtime, because he doesn't normally put up this much of a fight. She's only been able to put him to bed a few times since bringing Ruby home, so she wonders if maybe they should have seen this coming.

"C'mon, bud," Fitz coaxes, reaching his hand out, "How about if we read _two_ books tonight?"

" _No_ ," Micah says again, breaking down into tears when it becomes clear they're not giving in, "I want Mommy."

He tries to climb into her lap, jostling Ruby, and she lifts her knees to keep him off the couch. "No, Micah, don't climb on me, please. The baby's eating, I can't read to you tonight, I'm sorry. I'll come say goodnight, I promise."

His crying almost instantly escalates into full-on hysterics, complete with heaving sobs and rivers of tears down his cheeks.

" _No,_ _Mommy! I want you, Mommy…I wa—Mommy…_ "

She looks at Fitz in shock, and he looks like he's at a loss as well. Micah had thrown some tantrums as a two-year-old, but he hasn't been this upset in a _long_ time.

"Oh, crying isn't how we talk to Mommy and Daddy, is it?" Liv says softly, trying to keep her cool.

Fitz sits down next to him, trying unsuccessfully to get his eye contact. "Micah, Mommy has to feed Ruby right now. You're not acting like a big boy, I want you to use your words."

" _I wa—I wa—Mommy—you read—Mommy…_ "

Liv shakes her head, glancing down to see Ruby still suckling enthusiastically. "I can't tonight, but tomorrow I will. I promise, bud. Go with Daddy."

" _No…_ "

This time, Fitz physically stops him from trying to climb into her lap, and Micah digs his nails into her leg, grabbing at the fabric of her leggings, scratching, pulling angrily.

"Ouch! _Hey_ ," she scolds, eyes flashing, " _No,_ Micah, you do not grab Mommy. Not okay."

Fitz jumps in and picks him up, having had enough negotiation. "Okay, let's go, that's enough."

Micah protests with all his might, squirming in Fitz's arms, becoming hysterical as Fitz easily carries him up the stairs and into his bedroom. The door shuts and his tantrum is muffled, but every yell of ' _Mommy_ ' stabs straight into her heart.

She closes her eyes for a moment, rolling her neck to try and ease some of the tension. Looking down at Ruby, she sighs deeply, gently stroking her back.

"Now, what am I going to do about that, bug?" she muses, listening to the baby's soft breathing and swallowing, "Hmm? What do you think? Think he'll calm down before we finish? Do you think Daddy might lose his mind? I hope not."

Ruby doesn't seem to have much of an opinion, but her eyes are already starting to droop, her sucking motions becoming intermittent. Normally, Liv would try to keep her awake, but this time she lets her drift off, standing and slowly walking up the stairs. She passes Micah's room, wincing as his crying gets louder, and heads into their bedroom.

Luckily, the baby doesn't protest when Liv gently breaks the suction around her nipple, laying her down and swaddling her tightly. The swaddle is still kryptonite at this point, and Ruby is powerless against the soothing pressure, completely content to be placed in her bassinette.

"I'll feed you more as soon as you're hungry, even if it's in ten minutes, okay?" she murmurs, placing her hand on the baby, pulling her nursing tank back up, "Promise. But I think your brother needs me, you don't mind do you? No, I didn't think so."

Ruby doesn't even stir, the picture of peaceful.

"Great," Liv whispers, giving her a thumbs up.

Turning her attention back to the dramatic sounds coming from her toddler's room, she heads back down the hallway to rescue her husband. She's not sure going in to talk to Micah is the right thing to do, but something's telling her that he's not being manipulative, that he really _is_ missing her and needing her attention right now. She takes a deep breath, gathering herself, and then opens the door.

He's standing in the middle of the room, crying and refusing to sit on his bed with Fitz. As soon as he sees her, he cries even harder. Olivia kneels down to meet him, getting on his level, slightly shocked that he's still so upset. Micah reaches for her but she catches his arms and keeps him in front of her, not wanting to reward the tantrum with a hug right away. It breaks her heart not to scoop him up, but this is _way_ out of character for him, and she doesn't want to reinforce it.

"Wow, _hey_ ," she says softly, eyes wide and serious as he stands in front of her, hysterical, "We can't talk if you're crying. Can you stop crying?"

Micah hiccups and cries, still reaching for her as his breath catches with sobs. " _No…Momm—Mommy—Mommy I wa—want you…want you—Mommy_ …"

"I'm right here," she reasons, keeping her voice calm and soft, "I want to talk to you, but I can't if you're crying, okay? I want you to tell me what's wrong, but I can't understand you if you cry."

" _Mommy—I—I—Momm—y…Mommy…_ "

After a moment or so he stops trying to come toward her and focuses on crying, letting her keep him half an arm's length away. She strokes his little arms with her thumbs, watching him slowly lose steam, trying to catch his breath.

Fitz gets up at one point, and they have a short conversation with their eyes before he leaves the room.

 _You got this?_

 _I'll take it from here, we're fine_

He closes the door behind him, leaving them alone together.

Slowly, _slowly_ , he starts to calm, his hysterical crying fading into pitiful sobs and sniffles. She waits him out, watching his chest heave, his face soaked with tears. Moments like this remind her more than ever that he's a little person now, with lots of thoughts and feelings, learning how to express himself.

"Do you want to talk to me now?" she asks, rubbing Micah's arms as he sobs quietly.

"Yeah," he sniffles, hiccupping, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

"Okay, first, I want you to tell me you're sorry for scratching me. That hurt Mommy, and it wasn't nice at _all_. You know better than that, Micah."

He sobs pitifully, blinking teary brown eyes. "Sorry, Mommy."

"Thank you," she murmurs, finally guiding him into a hug, "Try to do better next time, please."

"Sorry, Mommy," he says again, crying into her shoulder.

She picks him up, rubbing his back. "I know, pumpkin. I forgive you. _Shh_."

She sways gently, closing her eyes, feeling the squeeze of his arms, his hot tears against her neck. It's easy to forget, now that she's taking care of a tiny baby again, that he's still a little boy. He feels big in her arms, but he's still _so_ young, he still needs her _so_ much.

Finally, he stops crying, and she walks over to sit down in the seldom-used rocking chair in the corner of his room. They hardly ever rock before bedtime anymore, and they've actually been talking about donating his chair since Ruby has her own. But she rocks him now, rubbing his back, humming quietly. He's not just resting in her arms, he's _hugging_ her, clinging to her, and it makes her want to cry. Instead, she holds him tighter, turning to rest her lips against his temple, still rocking gently.

He slides down to sit in her lap after a few minutes, laying his head against her chest, and she hugs her arms around him.

"You're really sad, huh?" she murmurs, smoothing his curls back, trying to help him connect his emotion to the right word.

"Yeah," he agrees, still sniffling, tears in his voice.

"How come you're so sad?"

He doesn't say anything, playing with her wedding band.

"Hmm? Tell Mommy why you're sad, so I can help you feel better."

He still doesn't say anything, and for a moment she's not sure he'll talk to her about it.

"'Cause," he whispers, finally.

"Because, why?"

"Umm, 'cause you hold Ruby and not me and you didn't read to me."

"Oh," she breathes, pretending she's had no idea why he was so upset, "Okay. And that made you so sad?"

"Yeah."

She takes a breath, willing him to keep using his words. "Well, sometimes I can't read to you at bedtime, because I have to take care of Ruby. Remember, we keeping talking about how she's so, so little, and she needs Mommy and Daddy to do everything for her?"

Micah nods, still not looking at her.

"You're a big boy, and you don't need us to do as many things. Like, if you're hungry, you can just eat all by yourself!"

"I can use a fork," he mumbles, sounding comically depressed about it.

"I know you can, because you're such a big boy. But Ruby can't do that, she needs Mommy to feed her. If I didn't feed her, she couldn't eat, and then _she_ would be sad."

"I want you to read though, Mommy," he whimpers, pressing into her chest.

He's tired, and emotionally exhausted, and they may not get much further with this tonight. But, she figures it can't hurt to reiterate the fact that sometimes, Ruby will have to come first. He's still learning, after all, and she wants to give him grace when it comes to learning about sharing attention.

" _Shh_ …I know you do. I want to read to you too, but sometimes I can't. When that happens, it's okay to be sad but I need you to use your words, okay? I need you to tell me you're sad, and then I can help you feel better. You can't scream and cry, that's not the right thing to do. Okay?"

"'Kay," he says quietly, content to be in her arms.

They're quiet for a bit, rocking, cuddling, breathing.

"How about if Ruby reads with us, sometimes? I bet she would like to listen, too. Do you think that would be fun?"

He nods against her chest, playing with her fingers. "Yeah. We can tell her about trees. And the bee-trix potter froggies."

"I think she would really like that," Liv smiles, pressing kisses into his curls, hugging him securely, "You might have to hold the book, and turn the pages. How about that? You can do that, right?"

"Yeah."

"I bet you can. Okay, how about if we go lay down, and I'll sing to you. It's bedtime."

She feels him yawn, nodding simultaneously, climbing off of her lap.

"Hey, c'mere," she murmurs, sitting down on the floor in front of him, meeting his eyes.

He looks a little apprehensive to be back in front of her, forced to make eye contact, but she smiles and turns her head, tapping her cheek with one finger. Micah grins and kisses her cheek, leaning on her shoulders. She turns forward again and purses her lips in an exaggerated pucker, giving him a smacking kiss on the lips when he leans in.

"Another hug, please," she requests softly, squeezing him tight when he falls into her arms, "I love you."

"Love you, Mommy."

* * *

He's asleep before she finishes singing the first verse of _Stay Awake_ , and she tiptoes from his room, carefully closing the door.

When she gets back to their bedroom, Fitz is doing laps around the room with a fussing Ruby over his shoulder.

"Hungry again?" she asks, stopping in the doorway.

"That's my guess," he answers, turning to show her that the baby is sucking on the collar of his tee shirt.

Olivia takes a deep breath, unclipping one side of her nursing tank and letting it fall down unceremoniously, making him chuckle. "You know, little ladybug, we wouldn't have this problem if you'd stop falling asleep so fast."

" _I can't help it, Mommy_ ," Fitz says in a high-pitched voice, speaking as Ruby, " _You're so warm and comfy, I can't fight it._ "

She sinks down into their new glider, taking Ruby from him, cradling the baby to her breast. "There you go, baby. Easy, easy, slow down, do it right. Oh, don't fuss at me, this is for your own good. That's better."

Fitz kneels down next to the glider as Ruby sighs, suckling happily. He reaches out and smoothes a stray curl away from Liv's face, waiting until she looks up at him.

"He okay?" he asks, knowing she probably has some feelings about what just happened.

"He's alright," she murmurs, letting Ruby's tiny fingers curl around hers, "We had a good talk, I think."

"Are _you_ okay?"

It takes her longer to answer this time as she thinks for a second, tipping her head back to rest against the chair looking down at him.

"I don't…I really hate feeling like I can't be there for both of them at the same time. They both really did need me."

Fitz smiles sympathetically, standing up to kiss her softly. "There's nothing I can say that will make you feel any better about that, because you're a mom. But you're doing a _great_ job, okay?"

"Thanks," she smiles, her tired eyes meeting his, "So are you. Dad of the year, right here."

* * *

 **A/N: So, not completely smooth sailing, but they're handling it. I'm so happy everyone is loving these guys, I love writing them. Reviews are so appreciated!**


	51. The First Month Home With Two: II

**A/N: I got a review a couple chapters back, asking for more Fitz. So I gave him some love in this chapter :-)**

* * *

 **10 Days Old…**

"She's _so_ cute."

Karen's holding a snoozing Ruby, fawning over her.

"She's so tiny, isn't she?" Fitz muses, yawning widely.

"So tiny. You're _so_ tiny, little sister. I can't believe I have a little sister. _Finally_."

He smiles from his spot next to her on the couch, watching his daughters together. "Well, you can thank Liv for that, when she wakes up. She did all the heavy lifting."

"Are you guys super exhausted?" Karen asks, still gazing down at Ruby, "You can take a nap too if you want, Dad. I'll keep an eye on her."

"I'd rather hang out with you," Fitz grins, reaching over to play with a lock of her long brown hair, "Liv's been trying to nap whenever she does, and it's a bonus if Micah's down too. I'm alright though. How are you, kiddo? How's school?"

"It's fine," Karen shrugs, "You know me, Dad, I've never been that into school."

"I know, I didn't mean the classes. I know you're doing what you need to do. I meant the other stuff. Friends, clubs, boys—"

" _Dad_."

"Hey, I'm just asking! I'm your Dad, I have to ask."

Karen sighs, rocking the baby a little bit. "There is a guy—"

"—oh?"

"—and before you ask, no, you can't meet him yet—"

"—wasn't even going to ask—"

"—I'm twenty-one years old, you don't need to meet everyone I date anymore—"

"Wow, you must really like him to be getting this defensive," Fitz teases, gently poking her in the ribs.

She shoots him a _look_ , and he holds up his hands in mock surrender.

They're quiet for a few moments, watching Ruby make 'o's' in her sleep.

"I _do_ really like him," Karen admits quietly, not looking at him, "I think I might—I might actually…"

Fitz's expression softens. "That's great, Kare. He's good to you?"

"Yeah, he is," she smiles, glancing over at him, "He's a great guy."

The fact that his first baby girl is actually in love makes him die on the inside a little bit, but he recognizes that she's growing up, and he's _desperately_ hopeful that she hasn't subconsciously internalized her parents' dysfunctional relationship as 'normal'.

Sighing, he pats her thigh affectionately. "I'm happy for you, then. And I'd love to meet him, whenever you guys are ready."

She looks at him, surprised at his restraint. "Thanks, Dad. This is killing you a little bit, isn't it?"

"A little," he groans, letting his head fall back against the couch, laughing.

Ruby starts to fuss and squirm, and Karen looks uncomfortable. "Do you want to take her?"

"No, she's fine with you," he reassures, not moving to take the baby, "Try holding her up against your chest. She really likes to snuggle in like that, sometimes she just wants to be closer."

Karen awkwardly maneuvers the newborn the way he's described, and sure enough, she quiets almost immediately.

"Oh…she does like this," Karen breathes, gently patting her back, "Ugh, I _cannot_ have baby fever at twenty-one, Liv would make fun of me so bad."

"She wouldn't," Fitz laughs, raising his eyebrows, "She melts for our kids just as quickly as the next person. Grant kids are pretty much the cutest ones around."

She laughs quietly, tentatively kissing Ruby's head. "Ruby and Micah are going to grow up in such a _normal_ environment. You're really doing right by them, Dad."

His face falls at her confession, and her breath catches, realizing what she's implied.

"No, Dad, I didn't mean—I just meant that—"

"It's okay to say things like that," he says softly, smiling sadly, "I know your childhood wasn't exactly the best."

"Dad," she sighs, "I didn't mean it like that. I don't—you and Mom did the best you could given the situation we were in, I know that. But, every kid wishes they were just like everyone else, and I'd be lying if I told you I never wished for that."

He swallows thickly, nodding, hanging on her every word.

"I wanted normal, but I never wished for different parents, especially not a different Dad. Ruby and Micah are getting all of the best parts of you, and Liv. They're just…it will be different for them. That's all I meant."

Her words still hurt, but he realizes that she really doesn't seem to resent him, and he's grateful for that. "I wanted to give you normal, if it's any consolation."

Karen smiles, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "I know you did."

They're distracted when Olivia comes down the stairs, yawning and wrapping herself in a big sweater.

"Hey," she greets, her face lighting up when she sees Karen, "When did you get here? Sneaky girl."

"I wouldn't let Dad wake you up, I knew you'd probably be exhausted."

"Oh, I'm alright," she smiles, bending to hug Karen, carefully avoiding squishing the baby.

"So, my little sister is kind of a precious angel," Karen sighs, kissing Ruby again.

"I _know_ ," Liv breathes, collapsing next to Fitz, snuggling into his side, "She's irresistible, which I think means she's going to be trouble. What's new, Kare?"

"She has a boyfriend," Fitz stage-whispers, watching as Liv's eyes get wide and curious.

" _Dad!_ "

* * *

 **Two Weeks Old…**

"Oh…hi, sweet pea. Hi. What do you think? Are you ready for your first bath?"

Fitz holds Ruby up in front of himself, taking advantage of the fact that she's awake, talking to her quietly. They're sitting in the bathroom, waiting for Liv and Micah to finish up with lunch, listening to them talking elsewhere in the house.

"We're almost all ready, just waiting for Mommy and big brother. Yeah, we're almost ready. We have some nice warm water, and there's a nice warm towel in the dryer for when you get out. To be honest, I'm not sure you'll like this, you _really_ don't like being naked."

Ruby blinks slowly, pursing her lips, working her little tongue.

"Lemme see that tongue. Oh, there it is! Are you sticking your tongue out at Daddy? Hmm?"

He brings her closer, kissing her soft cheek a few times.

"Baby girl…you're so sweet. Daddy loves you, you know that, don't you? Hi, Ruby girl. You're starting to wake up a lot more lately, I love it. Hi. What color are those eyes gonna be? Hmm?"

A little arm escapes the blanket, and Fitz rests her body against his thighs, taking her hand, easily cradling her head and shoulders with one palm.

"Not blue, that's for sure, they're already too dark. But, maybe a little lighter than your brother's. I think they might be green. Or hazel. We'll have to wait and see, huh?"

She grunts and fusses half-heartedly, squirming slowly on his lap. Fitz bounces her gently, cooing to her until she's content again.

"You're gonna be a little more demanding, I think. You're not quite as content as your brother was, you really need us to talk to you, and rock you, and move you around, huh? That's okay, we'll keep you happy, we'll get it figured out."

"Daddy, I'm ready!"

Micah trots into the bathroom wearing his swim trunks, followed by Liv, who looks like she's trying desperately not to laugh.

"You sure are," Fitz says, raising his eyebrows, handing Ruby to Liv for undressing, "What's with the bathing suit, bud?"

"I gotta wear my bathin' suit, 'cause I gotta get in the, umm, in the water!" Micah explains, already hanging over the edge of the large bathtub.

"Oh…it's not swimming though, it's just like taking a bath," Fitz reasons, testing the water temperature for the fourth time.

"No, Daddy, _I'm_ not getting a bath, _Ruby_ is getting a bath. _I'm_ just getting in the water."

He looks over to find Olivia shaking her head. "It's toddler logic, proceed at your own risk."

"Alright, bud, sounds good. Here," he says, picking Micah up and plunking him down into the shallow water, "Are you going to help us with Ruby's bath?"

"Yeah!" Micah answers excitedly, checking out the mesh baby seat sitting in the water.

"Okay, well just so you know, she might cry, okay? This is her first time ever being in the water, and she might not like it."

And in fact, Ruby's already fussing, not at all happy to have her sleeper off. As soon as her diaper is stripped off, she starts to cry pitifully.

"Here, Daddy," Liv murmurs, passing her over to Fitz, "She'll feel safer if you do it, your hands are bigger."

"Mommy, she's crying," Micah observes, watching Fitz slowly lower the baby into the water.

Liv perches on the edge of the tub, rolling up her pants to stick her feet in. "I know, that's okay. She's okay, she's just a little scared. She's not sure what's happening."

"Ruby girl," Fitz says softly, cupping water over her delicate shoulders, cradling her head with his other palm, "You're okay, peanut. Look, big brother is in there with you, you're alright."

Without being told, Micah picks up the washcloth that's floating in the water, and covers Ruby's tiny body with it. "S'okay, Ruby. We can cover you up, then you will like it."

His habit of always covering her with blankets pays off, and instantly, her cries drop off into whimpers.

"Oh, good job Micah," Liv says, putting a hand over her chest, the sweetness of the moment taking her breath away, "That's being a very good big brother."

Micah smiles proudly, patting Ruby's tummy. "S'okay, baby. You like bathtime now?"

"I think she does, buddy," Fitz smiles, taking a pump of baby soap, figuring they'd better get a move on before Ruby's whimpers escalate into screams again, "Hmm? What do you think, sweet pea? Not so bad, huh?"

Ruby protests quietly as he gently washes her body, letting Micah 'help' just enough to make him feel included.

"Want to do her head?"

Liv nods, leaning over with the impossibly soft baby sponge, lathering and washing her scalp.

"Does that feel good, bug?" she laughs softly, watching as Ruby quiets for the first time, her eyes nearly drifting closed at the feeling of the sponge.

"Mommy, is Ruby sleeping?" Micah asks incredulously, leaning in close to his sister.

"I don't think so. I think she just really likes how this sponge feels on her head."

"I wanna feel!"

She rubs the sponge against the back of Micah's hand. "Isn't that nice and soft?"

"Yeah," he giggles, shivering happily.

"Here," she offers, smiling and handing the sponge to Fitz, "I'll go grab her towel out of the dryer, this seems to be the magic trick."

"Daddy, she likes that?"

"Yeah, she seems to really like this sponge, huh. See? She's not crying as much, it must feel good on her head. Okay, peanut, time to rinse."

Ruby's cries pick up again as he pours water over her, rinsing her clean of soap.

"I know, Ruby girl, Daddy's going as fast as he can. Oh, see, here's Mommy with your towel."

He lifts the slippery, squawking infant from the tub, placing her directly into Liv's arms. She wraps Ruby in the warm towel, pulling the little hood over her head.

"Okay, little bug, okay. Shh," she soothes, carrying her out into their bedroom, "I know, I know."

Ruby cries all the way through being patted dry, diapered, and re-dressed in pajamas.

"Oh my goodness," Liv breathes, wrapping Ruby in her favorite fuzzy blanket, "So traumatic, my love, we're so sorry. But you need to have a bath every now and then."

She settles into the glider, cuddling the baby close and offering her breast. Ruby latches gratefully, finally settling down, eyes drifting shut.

"That was so exhausting, huh? Mommy's got you. Yeah, that's better. Are you gonna take a nap, now? Hmm?"

Ruby doesn't nurse long, just enough to calm herself, pulling away from the breast and fussing quietly.

"I don't think you're hungry, I think you just want to cuddle," Liv murmurs, re-clipping her top and lifting Ruby to her shoulder.

The baby nuzzles into her neck, little sounds of discontent trailing off as she's surrounded by her Mommy's scent.

"There we go, love."

She rocks gently, rubbing Ruby's back, turning to kiss her head and inhale her clean baby scent.

Giggles and splashes echo from the bathroom, and she closes her eyes, smiling.

* * *

 _ **4 Weeks Old…**_

"Where's that sexy wife of mine?"

 _Both_ of their kids are, miraculously, currently asleep, and he'd been looking forward to a little bit of alone time with her before Ruby's next feeding. But she's taking far too long in the bathroom, doing god knows what.

"Listen, mister," she calls, "I haven't had five minutes to myself in four weeks, let me live. My eyebrows are a hot mess."

He chuckles to himself, turning the page in his novel.

Finally, she appears in the doorway.

Olivia runs her hands up her yoga pant-clad thighs, dragging her nursing tank and sweatshirt up a few inches, walking toward him seductively. He whistles long and low, making her giggle as she struts toward him.

"Oh, is this turning you on?" she murmurs, slowly dragging the zipper of her ( _his_ ) sweatshirt down.

Fitz hums, nodding his head, smiling and biting his lower lip.

"Oh, yeah? Which part is the sexiest?" she giggles, peeling the sweatshirt down her arms, "This mustard stain on my pants from Micah's lunch? These gorgeous new stretch marks? Or this—"

She stops next to the bed and snaps the strap of her nursing tank.

"—this seductive, sexy, _devastating_ little number?"

"All of it," he growls, grabbing her and pulling her onto the bed, " _All. Of. It._ "

She giggles and shrieks as they roll over, cradling his face when he settles on top of her. "You've lost your mind."

"Mmm-mmm," he hums, shaking his head, nuzzling his nose against hers, "You are the sexiest woman I have _ever_ seen. Watching you be a mommy only makes you _sexier_."

Experimenting, he kisses her gently, pulling back to make sure she's in the mood to be touched. Her eyes are warm, and her mouth is soft and open when she pulls him back down into another kiss, sighing happily. He groans quietly, lazily stroking his tongue over hers, sucking gently at her bottom lip. She starts to shift around and he stops kissing her, lifting his body while she gets more comfortable. Her legs open a little more and he nestles between them, returning her playful smile, nipping at her lips.

"Mmm…you kiss good," she whispers, grinning against his mouth, sucking on his bottom lip.

Fitz hums, nudging his nose against hers. "Well, I have a good partner. Can only kiss good if you have a good partner."

They fall into each other, and for a while their bedroom is quiet except for the wet, sucking sound of their kisses.

She can't help but put her hands all over him, rubbing his back, tracing the muscles of his arms. She can feel herself getting lost in him, and it's so _easy_ to do it, but as his hands start to wander beneath her clothes, something in the back of her brain tugs at her.

" _Baby_ ," she whispers, arching her back, threading her fingers into his hair, "We can't. Not yet."

"I know," he breathes, dragging his lips against her throat, nipping at her earlobe, "Just wanna be close to you. Want to touch you, you're so sexy."

His hands slip under her tank top and rest against her sides, thumbs stroking slowly.

"We don't have to," he murmurs, meeting her eyes, "But if you want to…I want to. I don't care that we can't have sex."

She moans softly, pulling him down into a kiss. "I miss you."

"Miss you too," he groans, palms sliding up to gently squeeze her breasts.

His brow furrows, and she watches curiously as he slowly pulls his hands out from under her nursing top. She bursts into laughter when he holds up an absorbent nursing pad in each hand.

"Oops," he shrugs, looking nonplussed, "Do you need these back?"

Giggling, she takes them from him, tossing them onto her nightstand. "I'm fine for now, thanks."

Her whole body is pleasantly warm, reacting to the way he's pressed against her, the way his mouth teases her neck. His big hands stroke over her hips and thighs in firm circles, massaging, and, _oh_ , she's _missed_ his hands on her.

Slowly, she feels her body start to wake up, places that haven't been acknowledged in a while coming to life. Her brain starts to fog over, sensation taking the place of thought, and arousal coils gently in her low belly. His touch is familiar, comforting, deliciously sensual, and he's so _careful_ , so in tune with what she needs. One of his hands drifts down between her thighs, gently cupping her over her pants, letting her rock against his palm. The pressure feels amazing, and she moans into his mouth, taking his hand and guiding it under her clothes.

He pulls back to watch her face as he settles his fingers against her, easily finding her clit with the pad of his index finger, rubbing slowly. Her brows furrow, hips writhing softly on the bed as she relaxes into the pressure, smiling and biting her lip. It makes _him_ smile, and he leans down to kiss her cheek, sucking kisses along her jawline.

"Feel good?"

"Mmm," she sighs, rocking her hips, running her hands over him, "Talk to me."

He grins, trailing his lips to her ear, starting to whisper dirty things to her. She'll ask him to, sometimes, when she needs a little something extra, or now, because they can't really do much else.

Also, because he's good at it, his voice is sexy, and it's _really_ fun.

After a few minutes, the combination of his fingers and his voice is more effective than she'd anticipated, and she feels her muscles start to flutter.

"Wait, wait," she whimpers, giggling breathlessly, "I'm getting close."

"And we're stopping because?" he murmurs, drawing her bottom lip into his mouth.

She pulls back, panting softly, hips still writhing gently against his fingers. "I'm not supposed to."

"You're not supposed to what?" he asks, brows furrowing, arousal dulling his brain.

"I'm not supposed to come," she says, trying to catch her breath.

"Really? I though you just weren't supposed to—you know—put anything _inside_."

His question makes her pause, and they stare at each other for a moment, realizing this issue hadn't come up after her first pregnancy.

"I…well…huh. I actually…don't know if I'm allowed to or not. You might be right," she muses, looking around for her phone.

"I mean, do you want to?"

She stares at him for a few seconds, not an ounce of humor on her face.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" she deadpans, making him burst out laughing.

"Sorry, stupid question."

He hums contentedly, nuzzling his face back into her neck, pressing kisses there. She's on her phone for a minute, trying to keep her eyes open as he sucks on her earlobe.

"Oh," she breathes, one hand dropping back into his hair, "I _can_."

"You can?"

"I _totally_ can."

He grins wolfishly, slipping his hand back into her yoga pants, watching as her hips automatically flex.

"You can, and you're gonna," he whispers, exhaling a warm breath against her ear, "Miss watching you."

She whimpers softly, tangling her fingers in his hair, letting him coax her into an orgasm, the first one she's had since giving birth to Ruby. It's a gentle one, the kind that's mostly in the pulse of her muscles, the warmth that blooms in her belly. It's nice all the same, and she holds him against her as she pants through it, eyes closed. His lips on her neck feel so _good_ , and she sighs happily, gently moving her fingers through his hair.

And then...suddenly the lights are off, he's tucking her beneath the covers, and she realizes she must have drifted off.

"Baby, 'm sorry," she murmurs, starting to reach for him, having no idea if she's been asleep for ten seconds or ten minutes, "Let me…do you need—"

"Shh, sleep, Livvie," he whispers, gently pushing her hand away and spooning up behind her, "This one was for you. I'm fine."

She's _exhausted_ , he smells so good, and he's so warm; despite wanting to stay awake she feels herself falling asleep.

"Sorry, baby," she mumbles again, cuddling back against him.

He kisses her shoulder, hugging her close. "Shh, don't you dare apologize. Stop. I wanted to do that for you, okay?"

"'Kay. Make it up t'you."

"You don't need to, but okay. Go to sleep."

"Mmm."

* * *

 **A/N: So, that's it for Ruby's first month! Not sure where we'll pick up from here, but I have LOTS of ideas so don't worry. I've also started to get questions about The Right Kind of Madness, and I PROMISE I haven't abandoned it. I just want to make sure the ending is perfect, so I'm taking my time with it. Let me know what you thought!**


	52. The First Night With Two Sick Kids

**A/N: Hellooooo friends! As some of you may have seen on Tumblr, I've been battling a miserable sinus infection for about a week now. Slowly on the mend, but all this laying around being sick inspired this one shot.**

* * *

 **Micah, 4.5yrs - Ruby, 10mo.**

She's only at work for two hours before Fitz texts her an "S.O.S.".

Ruby's evidently _refusing_ her bottle, and he wants to know if she can make it home.

Of _course_ she can come home.

Her babies are sick, and that takes priority over anything and everything else.

* * *

 _ **12pm…**_

The television is on, and she can already hear Ruby whimpering and whining from the kitchen when she comes home.

"Hi Mommy," Micah sighs, waving to her from his perch on the sofa, cocooned in his favorite blanket.

Liv toes off her shoes and sets her bags down, going to him immediately. "Hi, baby. How are you feeling?"

"Sick," he shrugs, casually, sniffling.

"Yeah?" she smiles, laying the back of her hand over his forehead, "Your belly doesn't hurt, right?"

"No. But my throat hurts a _lot_."

"I know, that's because there's lots of icky germ bugs in there. That's why we have the special pink medicine."

"Daddy says I got strapped."

"You have _strep_ ," she laughs softly, "That's right. Is Daddy in the kitchen?"

"Yeah, he's making noodles."

"Oh, are you gonna have some noodles for lunch? That will be yummy."

"Yeah. Ruby's really sad, I think she needs a hug."

Right on cue, Ruby's whimpers get louder, and Liv turns to see her crawling pitifully toward them.

"Oh, Ruby-roo. C'mere, bug," she coos, laughing a little bit at the way her bottom lip is pooching out.

Seeing her Mommy is apparently Ruby's breaking point, because she stops crawling, sits up, and bursts into hysterical tears.

"See?" Micah sighs, gesturing to his little sister.

"Poor little bug," Liv mumbles, going to get her, "Okay, baby, it's okay. I've got you. _Shh_."

Ruby cries loudly for a few seconds, and then quiets, snuffling and whimpering into Liv's shoulder.

"Ruby doesn't want her bottle, Mommy. She only wants nursing," Micah explains matter-of-factly, breaking into a coughing fit.

"Cover your mouth, okay? Oh, you think she wants to nurse?" she asks, settling back onto the couch, rubbing the baby's back.

Micah's been very into letting them know what he thinks Ruby's thoughts are lately, acting as an adorable pseudo-interpreter.

Having sufficiently covered her Mommy's shoulder in baby snot, Ruby slides down to sit in her lap, face immediately burrowing into her chest.

"You want milk, bug?" Liv asks her softly, already pulling her shirt up.

Ruby pats her hands against the front of Liv's nursing bra, humming and making impatient noises until what she wants is available. She immediately settles down to nurse, one little hand clutching and kneading the breast, the other squeezing tight around a handful of Liv's shirt.

"There," she soothes, watching Ruby's face relax with relief, "I know, you don't feel good, huh?"

She can tell the baby's not quite herself because she's so still, content to snuggle in close and eat, a departure from her typical wiggly daytime nursing sessions.

"Here we go, my man," Fitz says, coming out into the living room with a folding tray table, and a bowl of buttered egg noodles, "Sit up, okay? You can eat on the couch. Hi, Livvie."

"Hi," she smiles, watching him get Micah set up, "Are there any noodles left for Mommy?"

"There are enough noodles for _everybody_ ," he grins, tucking a napkin into Micah's pajamas, "Even that little trouble maker, if she wants some. Hmm? Aww, I bet that's better, baby girl. Mommy makes everything better."

"Has she eaten anything today? I nursed her this morning."

"Nope," he sighs, relaxing down onto the couch next to them, "She didn't want anything to do with breakfast, or her bottle."

"She threw her bananas, Mommy," Micah supplies, happily slurping on a noodle.

Liv smiles down at Ruby, gently smoothing her wild curls, watching her eyes droop. "She did? You had quite a morning, little one. I think she feels pretty awful."

"Poor thing," Fitz murmurs, "She's really congested, one of us should hop in the shower with her. I'd offer but I think she's gonna be glued to you."

"Daddy, the noodles are good on my throat, because, umm, they, umm, because they slide and, umm, they're slimy," Micah grins, dangling a noodle from his fork.

"They feel good on your throat because they're slimy?" Fitz smiles, slouching over to nudge him playfully, "They're slimy like _worms_."

" _No_ , Daddy," he giggles, falling into him, "Umm, did Ruby get strapped?"

"I hope not," Fitz breathes, raising his eyebrows, "That sounds violent."

" _Strep_ ," Liv chuckles, unconsciously rocking back and forth, "He wants to know if Ruby has strep too."

"Oh. Nope, just you, thankfully. When the doctor put the little sponge in your mouths for the test, yours said you had strep, but Ruby doesn't have it."

Micah goes back to his noodles, brows furrowing thoughtfully. "Yeah, I didn't really like that. The sponge made me cough."

"Ruby didn't like it either. How's she doing?"

Liv rubs her back, peering down at the baby. "She's nursing off and on, I can tell she can't really breathe through her nose. She's dozing, more than eating."

"Well, it's comfort," Fitz smiles, reaching over to gently squeeze one of Ruby's feet, "She's never been sick like this before, you should've seen her when I tried to give her that bottle. She looked like she forgot who I was, she does _not_ like me today."

"Oh, poor Daddy, that's not true," Liv teases, reaching over to cup his chin.

"I like you Daddy!" Micah chimes in, sitting up on his knees like a Meer cat.

"You do?!" Fitz gasps, pretending to be surprised, "Aww, thanks buddy. I love you."

* * *

 _ **8pm…**_

"Okay, Ruby-roo. You want to take a shower with Mommy?" Liv asks softly, balancing her on one hip while she leans in to turn the water on.

Ruby blinks sleepily, little hands squeezing Liv's shirt in a death grip.

"I'm not gonna put you down, I promise. Well, I'll have to for a minute, but just a minute. I'm glad you're still such a tiny little thing, with how much you like to be held. Mommy's arms would've fallen off by now."

She sways with the baby in her arms while the bathroom steams up, leaning in to press gentle kisses against her cheek. Finally, Ruby smiles at her, eyes focusing on her face, hands coming up to explore.

"Nose," Liv comments, grinning as the baby starts to touch each part of her face, waiting for her to name it, "Eyes. Lips. Nose. Did you get Mommy's nose? I think your first word might be nose, you love this game. Oh, that's a good smile. See? There's my happy girl."

Watching her babies be sick and miserable makes her _ache_ , and it's so nice to see a little bit of Ruby's personality come back. After a few minutes, she chances setting her down on the bathroom rug so that she can get both of them undressed.

"Look, here's a ducky," she offers, handing Ruby a rubber bath toy.

Ruby takes the toy tentatively, shoving it in her mouth and giving her Mommy a look that clearly says, ' _I'll allow this. For the next thirty seconds_.'.

Luckily, Liv can get herself undressed and put her hair up in twenty.

"Okay, ladybug, are you ready? Are you ready?" she whispers, smiling when Ruby smiles, laying her down on the fuzzy rug.

She gets the baby out of her sleeper, wincing at the wheezing sound when she coughs.

"I know. This nice shower will help, hopefully. C'mere, baby. Can you try not to pee on me? That would be great. Naked!"

Ruby giggles when her diaper is whipped off, immediately grabbing for her feet. Liv smiles gently, quickly reaching up to dab a few drops each of eucalyptus and lavender oil into her palm. Touching her hands together, she smoothes each palm down Ruby's chest, creating a homemade vapor rub.

"Alright, let's go. It's already hot in here, huh?"

She scoops the baby up and opens the shower, giggling when Ruby immediately kicks her legs with excitement.

"I know, you _love_ the shower. Hang on though, I don't want to scald you."

She turns the water temperature down a bit and steps in, holding the baby's back against her chest so that she can play in the spray.

"Water baby, water baby," she sing-songs, bouncing her gently, laughing when Ruby claps her hands, "Oh no, this was supposed to relax you."

Ruby starts to 'talk', babbling happily, turning her hands over to watch the water spray her palms.

"Should we get all wet? Ready? Here we go," she cheers softly, quickly moving Ruby through the spray, doing a circle to get herself wet as well.

Ruby is all smiles as water drips down her face, completely un-phased, already reaching out for more. Olivia decides that as long as steam is rising up all around, hopefully helping the baby to breathe better, there's no harm in playing a little.

"Again?" she asks, leaning down to kiss Ruby's temple, smushing another kiss against her cheek, "Again, little water baby?"

Despite a few coughing fits, Ruby's happy to play in the water for a while, kicking her legs, letting the spray hit her face. Eventually, a particularly hard cough makes Liv step back, craning her neck around to make sure she can breathe.

"Cough it up, baby," she murmurs, turning Ruby around in her arms when she starts to whimper, "I know, _shh_. Being sick is no fun. _Shh, shh_."

Ruby slumps comfortably against her, cheek pillowed against her breast. She lays there for a moment, and then dives down to breastfeed.

"I thought that might happen," Liv murmurs, sitting down on the seat across the back of their shower, shifting Ruby so she's got a better angle, "You can nurse all you want. Mommy just wants you better."

Ruby sucks noisily for a minute, and Liv chuckles.

"Are you gonna take it seriously, or what?" she teases, adjusting her breast, "What's with the sound effects? You know, you've done this ever since you were born. Yes. Yes, you have. Are you hungry? Or do you just want to snuggle?"

Finally, she opens her mouth wide and presses in, nursing as though she really is hungry.

"That's better. Silly girl. Mommy's sweet girl…you're a sweet girl, huh?"

She coos quietly to the baby while they nurse, singing and rocking the way she often does, staring down into Ruby's eyes while they blink owlishly up at her. It's not long before she shifts, deciding she's finished nursing and needs to sit up. Liv lets her move around, hoping she'll tolerate the shower for a while longer, relaxing back against the wall when the baby lays against her breast again.

She smiles, standing up and stepping forward so that the water runs soothingly over Ruby's back. "There, that's good. Just relax, Ruby girl. Breathe in that good steam."

She's making her little humming noises, snuffling and shifting as she settles in.

"I know, I know," Liv coos softly, swaying back and forth, trying to lull her into sleep.

The white noise of the shower and Mommy's heartbeat prove too powerful to resist, and Ruby's asleep within minutes, barely stirring when Liv sits back down and sighs in relief. The baby grows heavy against her, going truly limp with sleep, lips parting to accommodate her deep belly breaths. Resting her head against the wall, Liv closes her eyes for a while, not at all opposed to a few minutes of quiet.

A few minutes turns into ten, then twenty, and then Fitz is knocking gently on the shower door and peeking inside.

"Hi," she smiles, yawning, "Is Micah asleep?"

"He went to bed no problem. We'll see if it sticks though."

She hums in agreement, carefully adjusting Ruby. "Will you take her and see if she'll go down? I want to take a shower before we run out of hot water."

"I have to take a picture," Fitz grins, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

"I'm _naked_ ," she hisses, looking scandalized.

"Well, I'm not gonna take, like, a full body shot," he snorts, holding his phone up.

He snaps a close-up photo of her looking down at Ruby, capturing the baby's relaxed expression, the way her little cheek is smushed against her Mommy.

Carefully, they transfer the sleeping baby into his arms, wrapping her in a towel. He cradles her, murmuring to her softly as he carries her out to the bedroom.

Olivia manages to take a quick shower, but just as she's toweling off, she hears Ruby start to cry and sighs, scrubbing her hands over her face.

Fitz has her diapered and dressed in clean pajamas, trying to comfort her in their bedroom.

"Oh no, what happened?"

"She started to wake up, realized I wasn't you, and lost her mind," Fitz says, smiling sadly, kissing Ruby's forehead, "I'm sorry Daddy's not doing it for you, baby girl. I love you, you know. I just don't have any boobies."

Liv smiles, pulling on a soft nursing bra, and a pair of button-front silk pajamas. "This is going to be a long night, isn't it?"

Coming to stand with them, she wraps one arm around Fitz and rests her other palm against Ruby's back. "Hi, bug. Hi. I'm right here. What happened? Daddy pinched you? Did Daddy pinch you?"

Fitz sticks his tongue out and pinches _her_ , laughing softly at how confused Ruby looks. She looks _so_ sad and pathetic, slightly calmer now that her Mommy is nearby again, but still not happy.

"Oh, baby," Liv coos, rubbing her back, "You don't know what to do, huh? Do you want to come see Mommy?"

She lays the back of her hand over Ruby's forehead, stroking her curls. The baby whimpers and leans in, immediately burrowing into Liv's shoulder when Fitz transfers her over.

"Hi, baby. Should we clean your little nose out? I don't want to at all, but I think we better, don't you think, Daddy?"

"Yeah," he sighs, heading into the bathroom to grab their Frida, "She hates us while it's happening, but she'll be more comfortable."

They lay Ruby down on the bed and perform the unpleasant task, trying to ignore her angry shrieks and wails. As soon as they've cleared as much as they can, Fitz heads back into the bathroom to clean up, and Liv scoops the baby up.

Snuggling her close, she stands to sway and walk in circles. "I know, I know, Mommy and Daddy are so mean. _Shh, shh, shh_. You're okay. Actually, I bet if you calm down, you'll see that you can breathe better now. I know, we're so mean. _Shh_."

Luckily, she calms quickly, laying her head on Liv's shoulder.

"My goodness," Liv sighs, rubbing her back, "What are we gonna do with you? Hmm? Can we at least lay with Daddy for a little bit? I've barely seen him all day. He hasn't even kissed me today."

"I haven't?" Fitz asks, surprised, "That doesn't seem right. Maybe I did and you forgot."

"Nope," she sighs, watching him switch the bathroom light off, "I _never_ forget a kiss."

"Well, then," he breathes, looping an arm around her waist.

Their lips come together in a warm, soft kiss, just taking a few seconds for themselves. A few seconds in the middle of the chaos that is caring for two sick kids, to remember what started this crazy journey in the first place.

Liv smiles and touches her nose to his. "Mmm, that's better."

"Daddy?" Micah croaks, suddenly hovering in their bedroom doorway.

Fitz goes to him, kneeling down. "Hey, bud, what's wrong? You were sleeping."

"My throat hurts," he says tearfully, hugging his turtle.

"Okay," Fitz says softly, bringing him in for a hug, "Well, do you want to lay in bed with Mommy and Ruby? And I'll go get you some more medicine?"

Micah nods, wiping his nose on his pajama sleeve.

Liv climbs into bed with both of her kids, Ruby curled into a ball on her chest, and Micah against her side.

"You okay, pumpkin?" she murmurs, stroking his hair.

He nods solemnly, nudging in closer to her. "Yeah."

* * *

The rest of the night is a blur of coughing and snot, and very little sleep.

Micah never makes it back to his own bed, negotiating his way into staying cuddled up with his parents, while Ruby eventually gets restless and needs a change of scenery.

She nurses every few hours, needing comfort and fluids, and they both end up falling asleep in her rocking chair after she absolutely _refuses_ to be put down. Olivia has a bleary, half-asleep memory of Fitz coming to cover them with a blanket, dropping a soft kiss against her forehead.

* * *

 _ **6am…**_

Miraculously, in the morning, everyone seems to be feeling a bit better.

Liv wakes up just a few minutes before Ruby does, groaning as she stretches her neck, looking down to find that her pajamas are completely unbuttoned. Ruby blinks her eyes open and sits up, yawning as if she's had the best sleep of her life.

"Well, good morning," Liv sighs, chuckling when Ruby flops forward against her chest, "You being silly? I have news for you, we are not nursing in this chair anymore, Mommy's back can't take it. C'mon, let's go see if Daddy and big brother are awake."

Ruby forgets about nursing for the time being, looking around curiously as she gets a fresh diaper.

When the two of them push open the bedroom door, both of the boys are awake watching cartoons.

"Hi Mommy!"

"Hi pumpkin. Did you have a good sleep?"

"Yeah. And Daddy said we can watch tee-vee, because I have to have resting."

"Oh, he did? I think that's a good idea, you still need more rest until you're all the way better."

As soon as Liv crawls into bed, Ruby leans out of her arms toward her Daddy, making them both laugh in surprise.

"Oh, _now_ you want Daddy, huh?" Fitz grins, pretending to be put-upon even as he happily draws her into his arms, "You feeling better, baby girl? I missed my cuddles. You've never hated Daddy for a whole day before."

"Hate is a very strong word for such a tiny girl," Liv argues, yawning.

He kisses Ruby's forehead, cuddling her against his chest. "Missed you, sweet pea. Missed you."

Olivia watches them interact, shaking her head in amusement.

"What?" Fitz says defensively, letting Ruby crawl all over him.

"She has you _so_ whipped."

"She does _not_. I'm just glad she's feeling better, what's wrong with that?"

Micah sits up. "Mommy, what's ' _whipped'_?"

"Yeah, Mommy, what's ' _whipped'_?" Fitz asks, with over-the-top curiosity, giving her a smug expression behind Micah's back.

She narrows her eyes at him, and then breaks into a dramatic yawn. "Oh my _gosh_ , Mommy is _so tired_ , I think I better use this little boy as a pillow."

"Mommy, _stop_ ," Micah giggles, laughing as she tugs him back down onto the bed and pretends to lay on him.

* * *

 **A/N: So there we go, little ones starting to feel better! I have a handful of other things in progress, one of which miiiiight be a chapter of MADNESS, so stay tuned. As soon as I have full brain-power back I'll be writing, promise! Hope you liked this, let me know in the reviews!**


	53. The First Bottle

**A/N: Don't ask me how thousands of words of The Firsts just flow out, while anything else takes forever.**

* * *

 _ **Micah, 4yrs - Ruby, 6 Weeks...  
**_

Fitz walks into the kitchen cradling Ruby, to find his wife holding their four-year-old on her lap, sharing a plate of toaster waffles. He knows without having to ask that it's a compromise, the result of an early morning meltdown over nothing in particular, hysterics that turned out to be nothing more than a cry for some Mommy-time.

Micah's still adjusting.

His outbursts are much fewer and farther between, but he's trying their patience, forcing them each time to decide whether he needs time-out, a long hug, or both.

He chooses not to break the silence, laying Ruby in the baby seat on the table so that he can forage around for his own breakfast. She squeaks and sighs, stretching her arms above her head and pursing her lips as she settles down. Fitz pours himself a bowl of cereal and stands at the counter to eat, marveling at the post-tantrum quiet, watching Olivia intermittently cut bites of waffle.

"Mommy?"

"What?"

"How come you're squishy?"

Fitz chokes on his cereal, quickly turning to cough and splutter over the sink instead of all over the counter.

" _What?_ " Liv asks again, stifling her own laughter.

Micah is un-phased, concentrating on the bite of waffle he's trying to stab with his fork. "How come, umm, how come you're squishy?"

She rests her head against the back of the chair, eyeing him with amusement. "Bud, I'm not sure what you mean. What 'squish' are you talking about? Mommy has a few squishy parts, now."

He turns sideways in her lap and lays his head against her chest, chewing thoughtfully, pressing his palm directly against one of her breasts. "You're squishy here."

"Micah, that's not nice," Fitz says gently, finally having recovered enough to speak.

Micah looks worried for a second, looking between them like he might be in trouble again.

"No, that's okay, Daddy, he's just asking a question," she corrects, shaking her head, directing his attention back to her, "This part is squishy because that's where Ruby's milk is."

She's blessed with a healthy milk supply, and her breasts are noticeably larger, even more so than during her pregnancy. She's been waiting for Micah to ask more questions about breastfeeding, surprised that he hasn't so far.

"Oh," Micah breathes, glancing over at Ruby, "The milk is right here?"

"Yes," she explains patiently, "When I feed Ruby, she eats from this squishy part of Mommy. And that's called nursing."

"Oh," he says again, trying to absorb this information, pressing on her breast again.

"But, remember how we talked about private parts the other day?" she smiles, glancing up at Fitz, reading his mind.

"Yeah, umm, and private parts is just mine, and you're not supposed to touch," he recites, summing up a bathtub discussion from several nights ago.

"That's right, good job. So, on mommies, these squishy parts are actually private parts. So, it's okay for you to touch Mommy, because I give you permission. But on other mommies, or other girls, like Aunt Bee, you shouldn't touch."

"Oh. Because it's private parts?"

"Right, it's private."

"Okay," he chirps, recovered from his sour mood, "I'm done."

"And what do you say if you're done?" Liv asks, raising her eyebrows.

"Umm, can I be 'scused?"

"Yes, you can be excused. Go play."

She watches him scamper off into the living room, turning back to catch Fitz laughing into the crook of his elbow.

"You'd better not say a _word_ ," she threatens, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I'm not," he scoffs, holding his hands up in surrender, "I didn't say a thing."

"You were thinking it," she yawns, folding her arms on the table and laying her head on them, pushing the plate of waffles out of the way.

"All I was thinking, was that I didn't want him walking up to random strangers, grabbing boobs left and right."

She giggles, closing her eyes. "Well, mine are always out, he was bound to start asking questions sooner or later."

Ruby starts to squirm, shifting and whimpering.

"Speaking of which," Liv murmurs, standing up to get her, "Are you ready to eat again? Hmm? Yeah, I think it's about time. I think so."

She slides her hands under Ruby's arms, smooching kisses against her cheek before laying the baby against her shoulder. Ruby nuzzles into her neck, grunting and sighing.

"Take a nap, Livvie," Fitz encourages, nodding, "We'll be fine down here. You've got to be exhausted, you didn't wake me up at all to try a bottle last night."

"I know," she sighs, rubbing Ruby's back, "She just gets so upset, it's easier to nurse her. But we need to find one she likes, none of the ones Micah took are working."

"Oh, I ordered a whole slew of them from Amazon. I still can't believe how many kinds they make!" Fitz tells her excitedly, eyes wide.

She laughs softly at him, unconsciously rocking from one foot to the other. "You're such a dork."

"I just want to be able to help you," he sighs, walking over to them.

"I know you do," she smiles, glancing down when Ruby squeaks impatiently, "Alright, bug, alright, we're going, it's coming."

* * *

 _ **A few days later…**_

"Feed me, Daddy, I'm hungry for my second lunch," Liv squeaks, holding Ruby up like a little puppet.

Fitz chuckles, testing the temperature of the bottle he's prepared one more time. "Alright, sweet pea, are you gonna put up a fight? C'mere."

Ruby's content for the time being, _just_ starting to show signs of being hungry. She's happy to be transferred into her Daddy's arms, little tongue working, lips smacking softly.

"Okay," Liv smiles, eyeing the different bottle nipples lined up on the table, "Good luck, and godspeed. I'll be upstairs if you need me."

He chuckles again, waving her off and settling into a chair with his daughter.

"Alright, baby girl, just you and me. Just you and me, hmm? Mommy's upstairs, big brother went to preschool this afternoon, it's nice and quiet. Nothing to complain about, right? Daddy has nice, warm milk for you, it's gonna taste just as good, I promise."

Ruby blinks at him, still making faces, not at all aware that she's about to face her nemesis.

"Okay, are you ready? See, the bottle isn't bad, right?" he coos, offering her the bottle, wiggling it gently into her mouth.

She opens up easily at first, but as soon as the silicone nipple is in her mouth her brow furrows, little tongue pushing it around.

"I know, it's different, huh? You can do it."

He tries for a few more minutes, trying to help her figure it out to no avail.

"No? Not that one? Okay, let's try a different one."

Unscrewing the bottle, he transfers a different nipple on, one with a flatter shape.

"Here, let's try this one. This one's different."

Again, he easily gets her mouth open, but this time she starts to chew, gumming at the silicon instead of sucking.

"Alright, not that one either, huh? Okay, Daddy has a whole bunch more, I bet there's one here that you like," Fitz sighs, trying to stay positive, knowing he has limited time before she gets too hungry.

They try a handful of other kinds, faster flow, slower flow, different angles, different sizes, even one with a different texture, but Ruby refuses to latch and suck on any of them. Twenty minutes later she's gotten enough drops of breastmilk to know that there's food around, somehow, but she can't get at it, and she gets upset.

Finally, Fitz gives up, bouncing his now crying baby as he carries her upstairs. " _Shh, shh, shh_ , okay, Daddy's sorry, let's find Mommy."

Liv is waiting patiently on their bed, looking just as discouraged as he does. "No luck with _any_ of those?"

"Nope," he sighs, waiting while she gets settled against the pillows and unclips her top, "At first she's just confused, but after a while she gets _mad_."

"C'mere, bug," Liv murmurs, letting him put Ruby in her arms.

As soon as she's in her Mommy's arms her cries drop off, and she immediately turns her head, rooting for what she _knows_ is nearby. She latches and suckles gratefully, taking a big shuddery breath as she calms down, nuzzling in close. Liv smiles gently, gazing down at her, brushing a tear from her cheek.

"Look at those crocodile tears," she coos, "Were you giving Daddy a hard time? I know, it's all so different, huh?"

When she glances back up at Fitz, the look on his face breaks her heart.

"Hey, come sit with us," she says softly, holding her hand out.

He climbs onto the bed with them, sliding his arm around her, leaning in to watch Ruby nurse.

"I just feel bad that I can't help you," he sighs, smiling sadly, "And that I keep making her so upset."

"And you want to feed her too," Liv adds, tipping her head against his shoulder, gazing up at him, "It's okay to tell me that, I know."

After a moment, he shrugs. "Yeah, I want to feed her too. I'm jealous that you get to feed her all the time."

"It's okay," she says quietly, reassuring him, "I get it. You love her just as much as I do."

"I love that she's getting breastmilk, I would never change that, I just want to bond with her the way that you do."

She turns to face him more, smiling and nodding. "Fitz, it's _okay_ , I understand. I _love_ that you want to feed her so much. I want you to feed her too, we'll figure this out. None of the other kids went this long without taking a bottle, it must be weird for you."

"It is weird. I mean, _she's_ not weird—"

"—well, she's a _little_ weird," Liv teases, settling back into the crook of his arm.

Fitz's eyes widen. "What if she never takes a bottle? What am I supposed to do when you go back to work? Feed her like a baby bird or something?"

"Ew, no," she laughs, rubbing circles against Ruby's back, "She'll take a bottle. I know she will. Either we just haven't tried the right one yet, or she needs to be a little bit older, or… _something_. I _need_ her to take a bottle, if she doesn't take a bottle—"

"—Liv, you're getting hysterical."

"I haven't slept for more than four hours straight in six weeks, I'm allowed to get a little hysterical."

"I'm going back on Amazon, there have to be a few I haven't bought yet…"

* * *

 _ **A few days after that…**_

"Mommy, watch!"

Olivia looks up from the case file she's reading on her tablet, watching Micah plunge a helicopter and a little plastic owl into the bathwater, full sound effects included.

"Whoa! What are they doing down there? Are they scuba diving?"

"No, they're in a storm!" Micah corrects, swishing the water around violently.

"Oh, they're in a storm! I hope they can swim."

Fitz comes bustling into the bathroom holding an Amazon box. "Liv, check this out."

He messes around with the packing material for a moment and pulls out…the strangest looking bottle she's ever seen.

"What the…it looks like a boob," she says, taking the bottle from him and checking it out, "It's angled and everything."

"Right?! Isn't it great!" he says excitedly, taking it from her and washing it in the sink, "She's going to like this one, I know it. I've also been doing some reading, and I think I should try feeding her in the rocking chair. The other thing we can do is wrap her in one of your shirts, that way—"

"—you paid _thirty dollars_ for _one_ bottle?" Liv asks incredulously, looking at the packing slip.

Fitz rolls his eyes. "You say that like we don't have the money."

"Well it's the principle of the thing," she scoffs, picking up the box to check the brand, "Did they make it by hand or something?"

"Hey, if this bottle works for her, and I can take over a couple feedings for you, are you going to complain then?"

She stares at him for a moment. "She's due to eat in about twenty minutes, you should test it out immediately."

* * *

 _ **Twenty minutes later…**_

They're in the sweet spot where Ruby is hungry, happy to eat, but not so hungry that she's upset.

"Okay, baby girl," Fitz murmurs, settling into the rocking chair with her, one of Olivia's most-worn nursing tanks draped over his shoulder, "I feel like I'm tricking you a little bit, but we have to start somewhere, huh?"

The bottle is warmed, the room is dark and quiet, and Fitz forces himself to relax as much as possible. He feels a little silly trying to simulate a nursing session, but if that's the only way Ruby will learn to take a bottle he's willing to try it.

Ruby seems calm enough, blinking up at him, making her little ' _ehn, ehn, ehn_ ' noises, clearly ready to eat. He thinks for a second, trying to picture the way Liv holds her while they're nursing, and decides that he needs to cuddle her in closer. It's like a signal, and as soon as he scoots her up against himself she turns her head, ready to eat.

"Here we go," he whispers, gently easing the bottle into her mouth.

It takes her a minute to coordinate, but right away she's actually trying to latch, something she hasn't done with _any_ other bottle. He can tell she's not completely fooled, but that the shape of this nipple is something she vaguely recognizes, enough that she's willing to try.

Fitz smiles, patiently waiting while she gets used to the feel of things. "There you go, you've got it."

And then she settles, gets her little tongue in the right spot, and starts to eat.

And it's _awesome_.

For the first time, he's feeding his daughter and it's just… _awesome_.

For the first few minutes he barely breathes, but slowly he relaxes, enjoying the process, rocking her a little bit after it becomes clear that she's comfortable.

Liv tiptoes into the doorway, eyes wide, and gives him a thumbs up. He realizes that his smile is _ridiculously_ big but he can't help it, nodding, trying not to laugh as she does a silent dance of celebration.

"Good job, Ruby girl," he murmurs, glancing up as Liv starts to walk away, "Wait! How many ounces is she supposed to drink?"

Right. They haven't gotten this far yet.

Olivia shrugs, whispering so that Ruby won't hear her voice. "I have no idea. Two? Three?"

"We'll play it by ear," he nods, smiling down at Ruby, "We'll figure it out, right sweet pea?"


	54. The First Big Scare

_**Micah, 18 - Ruby, 15**_

* * *

"Where do we go?"

"How am I supposed to know? I've never been here before," Ruby sighs, trying to read all of the signs.

"I think we need to go this way."

"If you would've waited for the Secret Service like we were supposed to, we'd know where to go."

"Right, like you wanted to wait around for them either."

"I'm supposed to be the irresponsible one, Mom is going to kill you. I'm sure she's anxious enough as it is. Stop walking so fast!"

"It's not my fault you got Mom's height, walk faster."

"Please don't be mean to me right now."

Micah stops and takes a deep breath, waiting for his sister to catch up. "I'm sorry, I'm just—it's _Dad_."

"I know," Ruby agrees, reaching out to squeeze his arm, "C'mon. Let's find Mom."

He nods, starting to walk again at a slightly slower pace.

"We should be close, when I talked to her on the phone she said—oh wait, there's Beth and Jeremy."

The two agents stationed outside the waiting room tip them off to their mother's location, and they both speed up, anxious to get to her.

"Mom!"

Olivia stops pacing, turning toward the sound of her son's voice. "Abby, let me call you back, the kids are here. Okay."

"What's going on?" Ruby asks breathlessly, "How's Dad, where is he? What happened?"

"He's okay," Liv says, holding both of her hands up, "He collapsed at the golf course, but he's stable now. They're pretty sure it wasn't a heart attack."

Ruby looks distraught, playing with the lotus charm on her bracelet. "So, he was playing golf and he just, collapsed?"

"I—I think so," Liv nods, wringing her hands, "I wasn't there, but when they called me he was already conscious. I don't know what happened, all I know is that he's stable, and they're running tests."

"Well, where is he? Can we see him?" Micah asks, anxiously.

"They haven't let me see him yet," Liv mutters, reaching for her work bag and shuffling through it, "They still need some insurance information, I have the papers in here somewhere."

Ruby and Micah glance at each other, very familiar with the way she's deflecting.

"Mom, why don't you let me look?" Micah offers carefully, resting a hand on her back.

His mother is the strongest woman he's ever known, competent to a fault.

"No, that's okay. I just—I know it's here. They have his basic information but I need to find the copy of— _shit_ , I was supposed to go to that hearing today, I need to call the office again, make sure they—I need to call Karen back, too, before I forget, I promised her I'd—"

"Hey, Mom, don't worry about that right now. Are you okay?" Ruby asks, gently.

Olivia stops what she's doing and looks at her kids, taking in the worried expressions on both of their faces. Instantly, her brain screeches to a halt, and she realizes she's been moving at warp speed for the past two hours, ever since she'd received the phone call that made her heart stop.

"I'm—I'm fine," she says weakly, taking a deep breath, "I'm better, now that you guys are here."

Micah, who towers head and shoulders over her, pulls her into a hug. "He's going to be okay. He's a tough old guy."

"I'd like to hear you tell him that to his face," she sighs, laughing a little, "C'mere, Ruby-roo."

Ruby gives her a _look_ , letting herself be pulled into a hug. "Not even this situation qualifies you to use that nickname, Mom. I know for you, I was little like five minutes ago, but—"

Micah gives her a _look_ of his own over their mom's shoulder, and she stops talking.

"But, what?" Liv asks, pulling away.

Ruby sighs, softening. "Nothing. When can we see Dad?"

"I don't know. They said they're running a few tests, and they'll come get us when he's in a room."

"So, we're waiting," Micah confirms, shifting from one foot to the other.

Olivia nods, reaching over to rub his arm. "We're waiting."

Ruby, ever the observer, notices the way her mom's hands are shaking and reaches over to hold them. "Mom, did you eat lunch?"

"I, um," Liv closes her eyes for a moment, thinking, "I don't think so."

"Sit down," Micah insists, guiding her into a chair, immediately stepping into his dad's role, "Make whatever phone calls you need to make, but _sit_. I'm going to go get you something to eat. You want anything, Roo-Roo?"

Ruby narrows her eyes at him, hearing Liv stifle a laugh. "No, _pumpkin_ , I'm fine thanks."

"Aww, guys, that's a cute one, c'mon," Liv pouts, still not over the fact that her babies are all grown up.

* * *

"Mrs. Grant?"

Olivia shoots out of her chair when the doctor comes to get them, prompting Micah to lay a supportive hand against her back. "Yes?

"Hi, I'm Dr. Guntapalli," the woman says, extending her hand warmly, "Why don't you come with me, and we'll talk a little more about what we found with your husband today. Are these your children?"

"Yes, they are, is he okay? Can we see him now?"

"He needs a few more minutes in recovery and then you can certainly see him, of course. He's going to be just fine."

The three of them exchange glances of relief as they follow the doctor to a consultation room, settling around the table.

"Now, again, I'll start by saying that Fitz is just fine, he's not in any immediate danger. He came to us after losing consciousness for a brief moment, and experiencing some chest pain, so the first thing we did was rule out a heart attack. We were able to do that—"

"—so you're positive he didn't have a heart attack?" Olivia interrupts, unconsciously reaching for Ruby's hand.

"Positive," Dr. Guntapalli smiles, "What he did have, was something called angina, and that basically means he was experiencing symptoms that mimic a heart attack. It's essentially the precursor to any kind of major cardiac event, so, aside from bloodwork, the next thing we did is called an angiogram. Now, during an angiogram, we insert a little tiny catheter into the forearm, and thread it up into the heart. That way, we can inject some dye and take a look at how well blood is traveling through the arteries."

"And what did that show?" Liv asks, taking a deep breath to quell the waves of nausea.

"Fitz's angiogram shows that he has a partial blockage in his left coronary artery. It's a serious issue, but as far as blockages go I want to assure you that his is relatively minor, and I'm going to be able to open it up with a stent."

Liv takes another deep breath, glancing at Micah, squeezing Ruby's hand, trying to keep her focus. "A stent?"

"It's a little wire tube that we place into the artery, which will hold it open indefinitely. The whole thing is performed with imaging, we don't have to open his chest, he doesn't need surgery," Dr. Guntapalli reassures them, seeing the relief she's come to expect when she says the words 'no surgery'.

"Okay," Liv breathes, nodding her head, blinking rapidly, "That's—that's good. I mean, not good, but—"

"Given the symptoms he came in with, it is good news," Dr. Guntapalli says kindly, "We'll keep him overnight and place the stent tomorrow. Barring any complications he should be able to go home in a day or two. He'll need to make some lifestyle changes, but we can talk about all of that later. Do you have any questions for me right now?"

Liv shakes her head, closing her eyes for a moment. "No, I think—we'll have questions I'm sure, but I think right now we just want to see him."

* * *

"Dad," Ruby sighs, relieved to see him looking relatively normal, despite the fact that he's in the hospital, "Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

"Hey, sweet pea, come here," Fitz smiles, holding his arms out for a hug, mindful of the IV in his arm, "Didn't they tell you? I'm fine, I promise. Nothing keeps your old man down."

"Dude, seriously?" Micah sighs, bending over to hug his dad, "All of this drama and you didn't even have a _real_ heart attack? I missed a pep rally for this."

"I mean, I'm sorry about the inconvenience," Fitz chuckles, _so_ grateful for the way his son is already making light of the situation.

"Are you sure you're okay, Dad?"

"I'm a little tired, they gave me something for that test with the arm catheter so I'd be relaxed. But other than that I swear, I'm okay, guys," he shrugs, sitting up a little more.

Olivia has been quiet, hanging back to let her kids say hello to their dad, chewing on her thumbnail.

"Hi, Livvie," he greets, giving her a little wave when she doesn't immediately approach him.

He's wearing his signature grin, despite looking tired and a little pale, and it makes her want to kiss him and slap him at the same time.

"Don't you _ever_ scare me like that again," she breathes, shaking her head, eyes fiery, "I've been telling you for _years_ that you need to take better care of yourself, and you don't listen! You're so stubborn, you _never_ listen to me!"

"Run," Micah mutters to Ruby, who nods and makes a quick exit with him.

"Livvie, I'm okay—"

He's calm, because he can see that she's _terrified_ , and all of that fear is spilling out as anger.

"—that extra piece of bacon that I _always_ tell you not to take, every time I try to get you to step back from the foundation because it's getting too stressful, it's all coming back to haunt us now. Do you have any idea how scared the kids were?! All of them! I had to talk Karen out of getting on a plane—"

"—I'm okay, Livvie—"

"—what is it going to take, Fitz? A heart attack? Because that's where you're headed, the doctor said so, not in as many words but she implied it. Just because you look fit on the outside—"

" _Livvie_."

Finally, she stops talking, slightly out of breath, and stares at him. Over the course of a few seconds he watches her strong façade crumble, her chin start to tremble, and her eyes fill with tears.

"C'mere," he says softly, holding out a hand, begging her with his eyes to come to him.

In two steps, she's sinking into his arms and burying her face in his neck, her chest catching with sobs.

"Shh," he murmurs, holding her tightly, "I'm okay. We're okay."

He can feel her tears against his skin, and it makes him want to throw something because he _never_ wants to make her cry, whether he has control over it or not.

"You scared me."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"You can't leave me yet," she sniffles against his neck, "We're not there yet. It's not time."

"No, it's not time," he reassures her, rubbing her back, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you. I'm sorry."

"I know. Shh, it's okay."

He lets her cry, realizing the kids have slipped from the room to give them some privacy. Pressing kisses against her temple, he holds her and whispers to her, knowing without a doubt that she's been bottling things up for hours.

"Hey, kiss me. I'm okay," he murmurs, trying to settle her.

She pulls her face from his neck and wipes her cheeks, cradling his face between her palms and kissing him softly.

"I love you," she whispers, kissing him again and again, "I don't want you to be hurt."

"I don't want that either, Livvie," he sighs, running his hands over her soothingly, "Listen, I'm going to have this procedure, and then I'm going to be okay. I'll do whatever they tell me to do, I'll start eating egg whites and low-fat cottage cheese for every meal if they say so."

Finally, she cracks a smile, smoothing his soft, thick, salt and pepper hair where it's sticking out in a couple places. "You promise?"

"I _promise_. See, this is what happens when you're married to an old guy."

She hums, sniffling and wiping away the last of her tears. "You're more of a silver fox. _My_ silver fox."

* * *

"Think it's safe to go back in yet?" Micah asks, nodding to Ruby who's sitting against the opposite wall.

She cranes her neck for a moment, listening. "Well, I don't hear any yelling, so, maybe? We should probably give them one more minute."

They're quiet for a moment, watching the light activity going on nearby, nurses walking back and forth.

"You don't think they're…" Micah trails off, raising his eyebrows.

Ruby convulses, squeezing her eyes shut. "Ew! No! Why would you say that?!"

"Because it's Mom and Dad," he laughs, crossing and re-crossing his legs, "And we've _both_ been traumatized enough times to know that they're…thirsty."

"Staaaaaaaahp," Ruby begs, shuddering, jumping up off the floor, "Okay, I'm going back in, I refuse to sit here and have this conversation."

Micah reads a text message and gets up. "Oh, Sariyah's here. Tell them I went down to get her, we'll be right up."

* * *

Sariyah Bennett peers down the hallway again, eyes searching for her boyfriend of the past five years. He'd texted her on his way out of school, telling her not to worry (yeah, right), and that she didn't need to come straight away.

But how was she supposed to stay away? It's his _dad_.

Finally, she sees his broad shoulders turn the corner, and relief rushes through her.

"Hey," she breathes, immediately reaching her arms around his neck, "So, he's okay?"

"He's okay," Micah sighs, burying his face in her neck, "He needs some kind of tube thing to open up one of his arteries but, he's gonna be fine."

"That's great, babe, that's _so_ great."

"Yeah, it's—that was fucking _scary_ , Riyah."

"I know," she murmurs.

"I never think of him as being old, you know?" he says, pulling back to look at her, "But then there's a doctor sitting there talking about how he has a heart problem, and it's just—it _sucks_."

"He's okay though," she nods, squeezing his hand, "And I'm sure he's acting like nothing is wrong. How's your mom?"

"Oh, she's a mess. Not in front of us, of course, but as soon as she saw him she lost it."

"Of course she did! I'm sure she was dying inside the whole time. They're, like, _major_ relationship goals, they're so close."

"I know," Micah sighs, reaching out to gently tug on one of her curls, "Hey, how are _you_? Did you skip debate?"

Sariyah grins slyly, reaching into her bag. "I did, but I wanted to go home first. I have something that _might_ cheer you up."

She holds up a printout with the UCLA Berkeley logo at the top, unable to keep the giant smile off of her face. Micah stares for a second, eyes wide.

"Did you get in? Riyah, did you get in?!"

Sariyah nods, giggling, and then shrieking when he swoops her up into a hug, lifting her and spinning her in circles. He squeezes her tightly, laughing, pinning her against the nearest wall when she wraps her legs around his hips.

"I got in. Next year, we're going together, we're going to an _amazing_ school together," she says breathlessly, holding his face between her hands.

Micah kisses her, humming happily. "It was killing me, thinking I'd have to be away from you."

"Me too," she breathes, cupping his neck, "I know people think it's crazy that we want to stay together, but…I can't—I can't imagine it, not being with you."

"It's not crazy, it's going to be incredible. We're going to have the best adventures, and then I'm going to marry you, and we're going to have babies. That's what I want. Is that what you want?"

Sariyah nods, kissing him. "More than anything."

"Then it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks," Micah tells her decisively, kissing her again, and again.

* * *

 **A/N: EDIT: OMG so many of you are nervous that I won't write them as babies/kids anymore! Not true, I promise. I just wanted to mix it up a little. I will still be jumping all around in the timeline. This one FLEW out of my brain, you guys, I wrote it in one day. Teenage kids puts Fitz in his early seventies, and Liv in her late fifties, by my estimation, in case anyone was wondering. And, as iWrite4Olitz can attest, Miss Sariyah has been living in my head for a loooong time, and we'll be seeing more of her in this series. I hope you guys liked this one! Let me know!**


	55. The Firsts: Don't You Want Me, Baby?

_**A/N: I thought we could all use some Olitz lovin' this weekend. I couldn't actually think of a "first" for this one, so I guess it's kind of just for fun, haha. Liv is pregnant with MICAH here, not Ruby ;-)**_

* * *

 _ **37 weeks pregnant…**_

She's trying to kill him.

He's just come inside from watering the garden, and now he's standing in the doorway of their bedroom, wondering why she seems intent on causing his slow, painful death.

She's lying on her side reading, in all of her late third trimester glory, wearing nothing but a black bra and tiny black shorts. Her skin is glowing, miles and miles of perfect, golden brown skin, and he wants to put his mouth on every inch of it.

 _But…_

Somewhere around week thirty-three, she'd started to get too uncomfortable and self-conscious, perpetually exhausted, trying to adjust to her rapidly changing body. He's more than happy to do whatever she wants, or in this case _doesn't_ want to do, to reassure her that she's a goddess, that she's more beautiful than ever.

 _But…_ with the way he wants her right now, after _weeks_ , the potential rejection seems worth it.

Olivia finally notices him as he crosses over to the bed, giving him an easy smile. "Hi. Garden looking good?"

"Mmm-hmm," he hums, spooning up behind her on the bed, "We're going to have so many tomatoes come August, we won't know what to do with them all."

"That's great," she laughs softly, letting him nudge in close to her.

His lips immediately land on her shoulder, pressing soft kisses there, working his way across to her neck.

"Fitz," she warns, reaching back to tangle her fingers in his hair.

"What are you trying to do to me?" he asks softly, sucking at her earlobe, rubbing his hand over her belly, "You're lying here half-naked and you expect me to control myself?"

"I'm half-naked because it's June, and I have an oven strapped to my stomach. You can't _possibly_ want me right now," she says incredulously, turning her head to look at him, pulling his hair to make him look at her, "I'm _huge_."

"You're not huge, you're so sexy," he murmurs, nuzzling into her neck, "And I _do_ want you."

"Fitz—"

She's protesting, but he can feel her body relaxing as he kisses her neck.

"Are you arguing because you really don't feel like it? Or because you don't believe me?"

The hazy look in her eyes answers his question.

"I…" she breathes, eyes unconsciously dropping to his mouth, "I want you too, but, I don't know how we're going to—"

Fitz immediately goes back to kissing her neck, humming when her breaths get heavier, when she threads her fingers back into his hair.

"I know how good you sleep after a couple of orgasms," he rasps, smiling against her mouth, "I just want to help."

"Don't make that face, I already admitted that I want you," she groans, hips shifting restlessly, "I just feel so _big_."

"You're _beautiful_. If you want to…we'll figure it out. We'll get you comfortable."

His hands come up to cup her breasts, fingers tracing slowly back and forth over her sensitive nipples. Instantly, a flush blooms across her chest and she gasps, nails digging into her forearms.

She pants for a few seconds, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of sensation. "Okay, _oh god_ , if we're gonna do this I need you to go turn the air conditioning down, it's too hot."

Her hands cradle his face as he shifts to get up, pulling him in for a few searing kisses.

He jogs down the hallway and back as quickly as he can, listening to make sure the air kicks on. When he comes back to her she's still breathing hard, waiting for him.

"Are you sure you want to have sex with a giant, pregnant lady?" she jokes, reaching for him after he climbs back on to the bed with her.

Fitz presses close, gently sandwiching her belly between them. "You are a _gorgeous_ pregnant lady. I'll tell you that as many times as you need to hear it."

She sighs into their kiss, slipping her hands under his shirt.

"You sure?" he asks quietly, rubbing her back, "We don't have to, I'm just—I _want_ you."

She rests her forehead against his, breathing against his lips. "I've been missing you. I just haven't felt very sexy lately."

"You're so sexy to me. Here—"

He takes her hand and presses it between his legs.

"Feel what you do to me? That's not morning wood, or desperation. That's _you_ , Livvie."

Drawing the heel of her palm over him, she sucks his bottom lip into her mouth, smiling around it.

"How should we…"

"However you want," he breathes, hips twitching, hands stroking her skin, "If something doesn't feel good, you tell me. Talk to me, okay?"

Liv moans softly into his mouth, starting to get lost in him. "Touch me."

He pops the front clasp of her bra, peeling the cups away to free her breasts. He smiles when she groans appreciatively, untangling herself from it and tossing it away. Her breasts are full with pregnancy, heavy and sensitive, and he's careful not to be too rough with her.

Stroking his tongue leisurely over hers, he palms her right breast, massaging slowly.

"Okay? Do they hurt today?"

"No," she sighs, "That feels so good."

"Good," he breathes, kissing her neck, down to her chest.

He presses warm, gentle kisses across her skin, exploring with his mouth. Her hands thread into his hair, holding him close, encouraging the pressure. He circles her nipple a few times before he finally covers it with his mouth, experimenting with soft strokes.

"Too much?" he murmurs when she moans and stiffens.

She takes a few panting breaths, combing her fingers through his curls. "No. It's—it's hard to explain. It's good—it's like massaging a sore muscle. Don't stop…"

He hums quietly, moving to her other breast, giving it the same attention. Her sounds always tell him everything he needs to know, and he listens carefully as she breathes and moans, cataloguing how much pressure feels good, which spots are too sensitive. He can tell what she needs by the way she sighs, the way her body writhes and shakes, the strength of her grip on his hair.

" _Baby…_ "

"Mmm…wanna taste you…can I?"

" _Please_."

Fitz sits up, tugging her little shorts off.

"You want to be on your side? Are you okay like this?" he asks, kissing over her belly, gently nipping the skin at her hip.

"Honestly, I need another pillow," she pants, laughing a little bit.

Fitz smiles against her skin, sitting up to grab one.

"Just, under my—oh, right there."

He helps her slide the pillow under her heavy stomach, stopping to tease her breasts for a few more seconds. He kisses his way up to her lips, nuzzling his nose against hers.

"Better?" he murmurs, kissing her slowly, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb.

She nods and smiles into the kiss, sliding her fingers into his hair. "Thank you."

They kiss softly for a few minutes, enjoying the closeness.

" _Oh_ …can't wait to be inside you," he breathes, stroking his hand down her back.

"Take your clothes off," she urges, breathlessly, watching with hazy eyes as he kneels up and pulls his shirt off.

He keeps his eyes on her as he unbuttons his shorts, kicking them off, watching as she sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. His erection is standing at full attention, tenting his boxers, and he moves closer when she reaches for him. Bending over to kiss her, he moans when her hand wraps around him, stroking _just_ the way he likes.

She _needs_ this now, he can feel it in the way her hips are starting to move, the way her tongue moves over his, and he gently pulls her hand away, sliding down her body.

"How—" she pants, watching him, "I can't be on my back."

"Here, like this," he whispers, lifting her top leg so that her foot rests on his back, opening her up to him, "This okay?"

" _Baby, please_ ," she whimpers, gasping when his mouth finally settles over her core.

He groans softly, carefully tracing the impossibly soft, tender skin with his tongue.

Liv moans desperately, reaching down to tangle her fingers in his hair. " _Oh my god_."

Her clit is already swollen, and he easily draws it into his mouth for a gentle suck, trying to gauge how sensitive she is today. She gasps and rocks against his face, whimpering, pulling his hair, and then she _comes_. It takes him by surprise but he flattens his tongue, stroking up and down through her orgasm until she settles a little, panting softly.

"Fitz… _Fitz_ …I—"

"Shh," he soothes, knowing the sensitivity makes everything overwhelming.

He presses his fingers hard against her clit, letting her rock against them until she shudders through another gentle orgasm.

* * *

She's not sure how long her eyes are closed, but when she opens them he's next to her, his stomach pressed to hers, running a warm palm over her back. Aftershocks are still buzzing through her hips, making her feel tingly and deliciously aroused.

"Do you want to stop?" he asks, kissing her softly, "It's okay if you're tired."

 _Bless this man_

Liv draws him into a slow, open-mouthed kiss, gently thrusting with her tongue, teasing him.

"I want you inside of me," she whispers, reaching into his boxers to stroke him.

Their baby boy chooses that moment to squirm inside her tummy, and for a split second she's nervous that he's ruined the mood. But when she looks at Fitz he's gazing down at her belly in wonder, waiting for more movement, looking at her to confirm the kick was real. She smiles and takes his hand, moving it around to where the strongest pushes are so that he can feel their son stretching and shifting, a tangible manifestation of their love.

"Fitz," she whispers, getting his attention, guiding his hand between her thighs.

He moans into her mouth, easing two fingers inside her.

She whimpers, trying to push his boxers off. " _Now_."

Fitz smiles, sucking her bottom lip, and then stands up to kick them off, walking to the other side of the bed. He spoons up behind her and nuzzles her neck, exhaling a warm breath against her skin, pressing firm kisses there.

And then his big, warm hands slide down to cup her hips, and start the most _heavenly_ massage.

"Oh my _god_ ," she moans, relaxing into the bed as his thumbs press into her lower back, "We can have sex anytime you want if you'll do this too."

He chuckles against her back, kissing the silky skin. "I'll give you a massage any time _you_ want, Livvie, no strings attached."

His fingers press into the tight, achy muscles at her low back and around her pelvis, loosening, warming, making her moan and sigh. Her belly almost feels lighter after a few minutes, her near-constant backache eased, and it makes her want him even more.

Liv turns her face back to catch his lips in a kiss, and moans softly at the look of desperation on his face. "Baby, now. Make love to me."

He nudges in close and guides himself inside of her, pausing to pant and groan against her shoulder.

" _Fuck_."

" _Mmm_. Move, baby. You feel so good," she murmurs, reaching back to tangle her fingers in his hair.

His hips start to rock, trying easy, shallow thrusts.

"Okay?" he rasps, palming her hip to help her move with him.

Olivia answers him with a moan, angling her hips back as best she can. "It's perfect—just— _just_ like that."

Satisfied that it's good for her, Fitz buries his face in her shoulder and groans, focusing on how warm and wet she is. A dozen or so thrusts later, he feels like they've barely started but he's already embarrassingly close, spurred on by her moans and the fact that she's so fucking sexy like this, soft and pregnant with their child.

"Liv," he moans, thrusting a little harder, "I'm—I—"

"S'okay, baby," she pants, reaching for his hand, knowing exactly what he's trying to tell her, "I'm there, just— _oh_ —"

He barely has to rub her clit and she comes again, whimpering breathlessly. The sound gets to him and his hips jerk against her a few times before he comes, _hard_ , groaning loudly into her neck, chest heaving against her back.

* * *

Everything goes white for a little while, and then he's boneless, trying to catch his breath. As he comes down, he feels her hand in his hair, fingertips rubbing soothingly against his scalp.

"I didn't hurt you, did I? At the end?" he manages to ask, kissing her bicep.

"No," she soothes, sighing, "That was…thanks for talking me into that, it felt so good."

Fitz hums quietly, nuzzling her neck, pressing slow kisses.

After a few minutes he helps her clean up and get comfortable again, which involves turning over to her opposite hip and repositioning her pillows. She cuddles into his chest, getting as close as she can.

"Hey, why didn't you tell me your back was hurting so bad?" he asks her softly, kissing her forehead, "You don't let me take care of you."

She shrugs, cuddling closer. "Just didn't think about it. Usually a hot shower does the trick, but as he gets bigger, it's been bothering me more and more."

"Well, from now on you're getting a massage every night."

"Every night?" she smiles, yawning.

"Every night," he breathes, grinning as he feels their son kick again.

* * *

 **A/N: Sending each and every one of you a hug and lots of love, wherever you are!**


	56. The First Terrible Twos

**A/N: I was holding myself back from writing these until I got Madness finished up. I couldn't wait to write more! The first part was inspired by a picture I saw going around on Tumblr.**

* * *

 _ **The First Terrible Twos**_

 _ **Micah, 6yrs old - Ruby, 2yrs old**_

* * *

"Ruby, be careful, if you get knocked over you're not going to be happy."

Ruby's following her around the kitchen, hanging on to her legs.

"Mommy, Mommy, Mommy," she sings, giggling a little.

"Yup, I'm right here. I came home early, because you wore Daddy out already."

"Gapes, Mommy? Mommy, gapes? Wash it?"

Olivia can't help but smile, listening to her daughter's little voice. "Right, we have to wash the grapes first, then we'll have our snack."

"Oh…sack? Sack? Sack?"

She's in a repeating phase, trying out each new word several times, enjoying the sound of her own voice.

"Right! We're going to have a snack. Which grapes do you want? The red ones or the green ones?"

Ruby considers this for a moment, eyeing both bags. "Umm. Red!"

"Red grapes it is," Liv smiles, brushing a hand over Ruby's curls on her way to the sink.

"Mo-mo? Mo-mo gapes?"

"Micah's at school. He'll be home a little bit later."

"Daddy hold you?"

Liv's forehead creases with confusion, and she glances down to where Ruby's hugging her leg.

Not _everything_ the toddler says makes sense at this point.

"What, bug? Daddy's taking a nap, I think, he needs a little break."

"Nap? Daddy, nap? Hold you, Mommy?"

"I can't hold you right now, I'm washing the grapes, remember? C'mon, let's go sit down."

They troop into the living room, Ruby skipping and hopping along. Liv sits down on the couch and Ruby scrambles up next to her, immediately crawling into her lap. Sighing contentedly, she reclines back against Olivia's chest and reaches for a grape, little feet kicking happily.

She shakes her head, wrapping her little girl up in a hug. "Alright, bug, just a few minutes okay? Then you have to let Mommy get some work done on the computer."

"No," Ruby says nonchalantly, stuffing another grape into her mouth.

"Yes. We're going to put a movie on, and have some quiet time. You can sit next to me, but not in my lap," she explains, starting to introduce the idea that they're not going to be snuggling all afternoon.

She's been in _such_ a clingy phase lately, that the only way to avoid a meltdown is to warn her in advance as much as possible.

"Watch it?" Ruby asks, ignoring what Liv's just told her.

"Oh, what do you think we should watch?"

Ruby tips her head back and looks up, upside down. "Mommy. Hi."

"Hi," Liv giggles, leaning down to kiss her nose, "You're silly. You're a silly girl."

Her daughter is all big, bright hazel eyes and little pigtails, dressed in a pair of red corduroy overalls.

Liv sighs, unable to stop herself from melting a little. "Oh, man…you're really cute."

"Mommy, bears?"

"You want to watch the bears?" she laughs, picking up the remote.

Ruby has developed a strange, adorable affinity for the Charmin bears. Luckily, they'd been able to find a Youtube playlist of all the commercials.

"Ya, ya!" Ruby smiles, bouncing excitedly.

Liv rolls her eyes and navigates through the various menus to open the Youtube app, pulling up the saved playlist. "Alright, little miss, here you go. You have to sit next to me though, so I can work on the computer."

She moves the bowl of grapes, hoping Ruby will trail along behind it, but she only settles in closer.

"Ruby," she says softly, bending close to her ear, "You can't sit in my lap anymore. You can sit next to me, but not in my lap. I need to work on the computer."

Ruby ignores her, watching the toilet paper-wielding bears dance around on the screen.

"Okay, here we go," Liv murmurs, physically lifting Ruby from her lap.

Immediately Ruby starts to whine, trying to move back. "No! No. Mommy, lap. Mommy, sit."

"You can't, bug," Liv says firmly, glancing at the clock, realizing she needs to be on a Skype call in five minutes.

"Mommy," Ruby whines, impatient because she's not getting her way.

" _Ruby Elise_ , look at me. Look at me, right now," she orders, her voice quiet and serious, gently gripping her daughter's chin in her palm, forcing the toddler to make eye contact.

Fiery, defiant eyes almost identical to her own look back at her, and _oh boy_ are they in trouble.

"Listen to me. You can sit right here next to me, or you can go to time-out. Those are your only two options, do you understand me?"

They sit in a staring contest for a few moments, a battle of wills. Finally, Ruby sighs, cozying up next to her, reaching for her bowl of grapes.

"Thank you, that was a good choice. That's what I would have chosen too," Liv says, un-pausing the video.

"Bee-bee bear!" Ruby points excitedly, stuffing another grape into her mouth.

"Yeah, there's the baby one! Chew your food, please."

She opens her laptop and sets herself up for the call, popping in one earbud, opening her emails to do some catch-up. As she types, a little hand sneaks over toward her keyboard and she takes a breath, prepared to scold her daughter. But Ruby doesn't touch the keys, she simply wraps her hand around Liv's pinky, holding on as she watches the television, still eating grapes.

"Are you holding Mommy's hand?" Liv smiles, watching as Ruby nods, tipping her head back against the couch, "That's a good compromise I think."

* * *

"Dad, what are we having for dinner?"

"—Abby, no, don't let him get away with that. I don't want to come back in, but I will if I have to—Ruby, _please_ don't hang on Mommy."

"We're having tacos, bud."

"What's the broccoli for?"

"Because you need to eat vegetables to be big and strong."

"Mommy! Mommy! Bears?"

"Plates or bowls, Fitz? Abby, listen to me—you know what, just put him on the phone. Of course it's loud here, it's dinnertime."

"Here, Micah, can you help Mom set the table? Take these two plates, this one is for Ruby."

"Mo-mo! Plate? Mine? Have it?"

"No, Ruby, I need to help, Dad said. Stop!"

"What do you mean he says he won't talk to me?! Hey, bud, don't yell at her, she can carry that plate, it's plastic."

"Mine!"

"That's not nice, Ruby, don't grab it like that. Here, come help Daddy stir the salsa."

"Mom. Hey, mom, guess what I did at recess today?"

"What, baby? Put him on the phone! Michael, hi, how are you?"

" _Mo-om_ , you're not listening."

"Ruby, don't throw the spoon. Don't—alright, that's okay. I know, you're just hungry. Here, let's get in your booster chair. Dinner's ready, come sit down Micah."

"You know what, Michael, you need to—yes, you need to do the interview—"

"Liv, seriously? You're wearing a hole in the kitchen floor, come sit."

"Dad, Ruby spilled the salsa."

"That's okay, baby girl, don't cry. You didn't mean it, I know. Here, you want some milk?"

"Alright, here I am, Mama is off the phone. What do you want on your tacos, baby? Why is there salsa everywhere?"

"I want, umm, meat—"

"If you could put the phone down for five minutes maybe you'd have been able to stop her from grabbing it."

"Fitz, can we not do this right now?"

"—and cheese, and lettuce—"

"You know I hate it when you do that. This time of day is so chaotic."

"Mommyyyyyy. _Cheeeeeeeeeeeese_!"

"I'll get you some cheese, bug. I know that, I'm sorry, I know it's been a long day—"

"At recess today, I got married."

"What?"

"What?"

" _Cheeeeeeeeeese_!"

"What do you mean you got married? Who did you marry? Here, Ruby."

"Sariyah."

"You married Sariyah? Who's that?"

"Daddy? 'matoes, Daddy?"

"Of course, baby girl, here, have as many tomatoes as you want. New girl in his class, we got an email about it."

"She's really nice, Mom. Yeah, so, now we're married."

"Okay, well, that's good to know. I guess we should have her over for a play date sometime, so Dad and I can meet her, don't you think?"

"Maybe. Can I have more tortilla, Dad?"

"Eat some other stuff first, then you can have more."

"So, tell us more about— _Ruby Elise sit down!_ "

* * *

Fitz collapses dramatically into bed next to her, sighing loudly, and she glances over at him.

"I'm officially too old for this. She's breaking me."

"Well, you're the one who got me pregnant again. Her spiritedness is your reward," Liv says absently, eyes never leaving the screen of her tablet.

He laughs, looking up to see her smirking.

"Liv, I'm serious, I'm exhausted."

"Oh, I _know_ ," she coos, pouting dramatically, reaching over to run her hand through his hair, "Poor Daddy, totally overrun by our tiny little two-year-old."

"She does stuff when you're not here that she would _never_ try to pull around you."

"I've been telling you that you're not tough enough with her," Liv sighs, setting her tablet aside, "She's a lot more mischievous than Micah ever was."

"I was gone for ten seconds today to get her some applesauce, and she had unrolled half the roll of toilet paper in the—why are you laughing?!"

"Because she's funny!"

"She's naughty. I've spoiled her."

"She's not," Olivia laughs, "She's two! She's being two. Did you put her in time-out for that?"

" _Yes_ ," he moans, scrubbing a hand over his face, " _I_ hated it, _she_ hated it—"

"Good! I'm glad she didn't like it. I'd be worried if she laughed in your face, but if she didn't like it, she'll think twice the next time you remind her that's what happens if she doesn't listen."

"Why is it so _hard_ for me to discipline her? I never had a problem with Micah."

"Umm, perhaps because that child has had you wrapped around her little finger since the second she was born."

"I can't help it! She looks at me with those big eyes—they're _your_ eyes, by the way—and I just cave."

"Well, she can't help it if she's gorgeous," Liv flirts, batting her eyes at him, "She's smart. She's already learned how to use these big beautiful peepers of ours."

Fitz glares at her for a second. "You're not helping."

She laughs, sliding down to lay with him. "You just have to be strong. I know you can do it, and it's for her own good."

"You don't think she's ruined, do you?"

"No," she laughs again, cupping his face in her palm, "I've never seen you so unsure of your parenting before! What's going on?"

"I don't know," he sighs, looking away from her in an uncharacteristic display of insecurity.

"Hey," she says, making him look at her, "Talk to me."

He takes a breath. "I think, I just…I've never done this before."

She stares at him for a moment. "Fitz, Ruby is your fifth child."

"I know that," he says, rolling his eyes, "But…I wasn't—I wasn't around, for my first three kids like this. I barely raised them."

"Whoa, hey," she says softly, eyes widening as she props her head on her hand, "That is _not_ true. You're their father and they know that. Just because you couldn't be with them twenty-four hours a day—"

"Liv, there were weeks that I barely saw them at all when they were Ruby's age. And during my first term as President? When Gerry and Karen were in boarding school? I don't even want to think about how long we went without talking."

"Fitz—"

"Ask me how many times I put a toddler in time-out before Micah. Ask me."

Olivia sighs. "How many times?"

"Zero," he answers, with finality, "I didn't raise them. Our nannies raised them."

She's _never_ heard him talk like this before, and it's simultaneously heartbreaking and incredibly frustrating, because he's a wonderful father. Still, she doesn't move to reassure him right away, sensing that he needs to get this out.

"I'm comfortable with babies," he continues, quietly, "The feeding and the rocking, the cuddling. I could do all of that, that was the part I could help with. I had Teddy in the Oval with me as a baby, _so_ many late nights, sleeping in the carrier on my chest."

"I remember," she agrees, smiling gently.

"But _this_? The actual parenting? I'm still new at this. And…I'm just afraid I'm going to screw it up."

"You're _not_ screwing it up," she breathes in a rush, sitting up next to him, "Look how great Micah has turned out so far."

Fitz scoffs, rolling onto his back. "Please. He was so easy, he's practically raised himself, and he's only six. I caught Ruby about to jump off the back of the couch the other day, did I tell you that?"

"No," she laughs, reaching out to rub her hand over his chest.

"She's so _fearless_ , and stubborn, oh my _god_ is she stubborn, and strong-willed. And part of me loves that about her, I want her to keep all of those qualities because, as a woman, she's going to _need_ them. But at the same time—"

"—we need her to be a productive citizen, and she needs some discipline in her life," Liv smiles, nodding along.

" _Yes!_ Exactly, do you feel that way too?"

"Fitz, I think about this stuff all the time," she reassures him, "I analyze my own parenting all the time! You think _you're_ a rookie, I'm three kids behind you."

He smiles gratefully, reaching for her hand.

"She's exhausting right now, it's not just you. And I know you feel like you spend the entire day telling her ' _no'_ , believe me I get it—"

"—I told her ' _no'_ eighteen times today before you got home, I counted—"

"—but do you know who she spent seventy-five percent of her time asking for this afternoon? You."

He looks genuinely surprised. "Really? She starts asking for _you_ as soon as you leave."

"Nope. Every five seconds was ' _Daddy?'_ this, and ' _Daddy?'_ that. She _adores_ you, Fitz."

She gives him a minute to absorb that, watching the thoughts swirl around in his head.

"Listen, putting her in time-out isn't going to break her spirit," Liv continues softly, lacing their fingers together, "She needs to learn that doing something destructive, or something dangerous, isn't okay. I think that's part of our job as parents, deciding where to draw the line. We should just sit down and have a long talk about that, if you're worried about it. But, I honestly think we're doing fine. We have great kids."

"We do have great kids," he nods, smiling at her for a moment, "One of them just happens to be hell-bent on giving me a heart attack."

* * *

 **A/N: I've missed writing these babies! So happy to get back to them, I hope you guys liked this one.**


	57. The First Piece of Innocence Lost

_**Micah, 6.5yrs old - Ruby, 3yrs old**_

* * *

Fitz paces back and forth in the living room, his brain whirring at a million miles per hour.

He doesn't know all of the details yet, only that Micah's school had called both his cell _and_ Olivia's office, explaining that their son had become hysterical over an American history classroom film. So hysterical, in fact, that Olivia is on her way home with him right now. He has some ideas about what may have happened, but with Ruby napping at home he hadn't been able to go himself, and so…he's pacing.

Finally, he hears their front gate open and watches as Olivia pulls in, secured between two secret service vehicles. He's shocked to see that Micah's _still_ upset as Liv helps him out of the SUV, taking his hand as they walk up to the front door.

" _See? Dad's okay, he's just fine, just like I promised you."_

As soon as he hears the way she's reassuring him, his heart sinks, suspicions confirmed.

"Hey, bud, what happened?"

" _Daddy_."

 _Daddy_.

Micah hasn't called him that in almost a year.

He waits until they're in the foyer, out of the cold, and then bends down to let Micah come to him, wrapping him up tight. "Okay. C'mere, it's okay."

"Daddy," Micah sobs, instantly starting to hiccup and cry harder.

Fitz glances up to see Olivia in tears, one hand cupped over her mouth.

"Okay," he soothes, collecting himself, knowing he needs to be strong and calm right now, " _Shh_ …"

Micah pulls back and looks at him with wet, flushed cheeks. "Daddy, you got hurt."

"No, buddy, I'm okay," he says softly, helping the little boy out of his jacket, "I'm okay, I promise. C'mere."

 _Reassure first, explain later._

"You got hurt, and then you would go _away_ ," he cries, breath catching with sobs.

"I'm not going anywhere, I _promise_ ," Fitz murmurs, looking right into the little boy's eyes.

Micah buries his face back into his dad's shoulder, arms squeezed tight as he cries, and Fitz picks him up, carrying him into the family room.

"I'm okay. I'm right here, Dad's got you. _Shh_ , everything's okay."

They all sit down on the couch together and give Micah a few minutes to calm down.

"What _happened?_ " Fitz breathes, eyes wide as he rubs Micah's back, rocking him a little bit.

Olivia takes a deep breath, clearing her throat, speaking quietly. "Evidently, they were showing a new version of the American history movie that they normally watch around President's Day. It wasn't supposed to be much different, so no one screened it first, and…there was a new clip from your birthday. They told me it was just a flash, a few seconds, but it showed you being shot."

His eyes close, teeth gritted in anger.

" _How could they let him see that?_ " he hisses, tenderly cupping the back of Micah's head, stroking his curls, "How could they show that in the _first grade_?"

"I know, believe me, I already gave them a piece of my mind and told them they'd be hearing from you as well," she whispers, voice shaking, "The other kids were fine, but as soon as he saw it…they said as soon as he saw it he started screaming and crying for you. They turned the movie off and called us right away."

"Are you okay, Dad?" Micah asks tearfully, face still buried in Fitz's shirt.

His face instantly softens, refocusing on his son. "I'm okay, Micah, I promise. I'm not hurt, I'm okay."

"I tried to calm him down, but he needed to see you," she explains, wiping away a tear that's managed to escape, reaching out to rub his back.

Fitz nods, reclining back on the couch and giving Micah his full attention, holding him tightly, whispering to him over and over.

"Take a deep breath, it's okay. I'm right here, it's okay…"

* * *

They both sit with their son, trying to make him feel as safe and secure as possible, giving him as much time as he needs to stop crying.

They share a look; sad, tired, knowing without a doubt that they need to have this conversation with him right now, much earlier than they'd expected.

When Micah's been quiet for a little while, Fitz carefully shifts him around, adjusting him to sit on his lap more comfortably. His tear-stained face comes into view, and Olivia smiles sadly, reaching out to brush the back of her hand over his cheeks.

"I bet that was pretty scary, what you saw, huh?" Fitz murmurs, pressing a kiss against the top of Micah's head.

"Yeah," he rasps, voice hoarse from crying.

Liv offers her hand, holding on tight when he takes it. "Yeah? And, did you think that maybe Dad got hurt today? Or you weren't sure what happened?"

He's still sniffling, but he seems ready to talk. "I saw and I didn't know if you were gonna be home or if you had to go to the hop-spital."

"Oh, you thought maybe I had to go to the hospital?"

"Yeah."

"And that made you scared?"

"Yeah."

They share another look, ever so slightly relieved; _we're not exactly dealing with the idea of death here, yet. Just confusion._

"I didn't have to go to the hospital today, okay? I'm not hurt," Fitz explains, shaking his head, "Where did you think I was hurt?"

"Umm, on your head," Micah answers, suddenly looking up at him.

"Okay, here, look at my head," Fitz offers, gently moving Micah back so that he can see better, "Looks fine, right? Does it look okay?"

His small hands come up to feel around, sniffling as he searches. "Yeah. It doesn't look hurt. There's no blood."

"Right," he breathes, wincing at the mention of blood, "Everything's okay. You don't have to be scared."

"But Dad, why, umm, why in the movie we saw did you got hurt?"

 _Damnit._

"Well," Fitz sighs, resolved that they're going to have to try to explain, "What you saw in that movie was real, but it happened a long time ago."

"You _did_ got hurt?" Micah asks, eyes growing wide.

Fitz nods, securing his arms around his son. "I did get hurt, yes. But the important thing to remember is that I got better, okay? And it was a long time ago, before you were born."

"How did your head get hurt like that?" he asks, brows furrowing in confusion.

Fitz and Olivia glance at each other, not sure how much Micah knows about guns, trying to decide how much explanation is _too much_.

This whole conversation feels like too much, but, here they are.

"A bad person did a very bad thing, and they hurt me," he says simply, trying to see how little gore he can get away with.

"Oh," Micah breathes, still looking confused, "Why?"

"Micah, do you remember when we told you that Teddy's mom is the President?" Liv asks, jumping in to help.

"Yeah," he nods, "And being the President is really special. It's a _big_ job."

"That's right, it's a very big, important job. Well, being the President used to be Dad's job. He used to be the President of our country."

"You did, Dad?" Micah asks, turning back to Fitz.

Fitz nods. "I did."

"A long time ago?"

"Not _too_ , too long ago. But, I was the President before you were born."

"Oh. You lived in the White House?"

"That's right, I lived in the White House."

"Did you live in the White House, Mom?"

"I did, me and Dad lived there together before you were born. And then when Dad's turn being the President was all done, we moved here to our house. And then you were born, and then Ruby was born."

"Oh."

He's thinking so hard, trying to process all of this new information.

"So, the reason that Dad was in that movie today," Liv says slowly, trying to help him understand, "Is because that movie was about all the people who took turns being President, and Dad got to have a turn being President. And when he was the President, someone tried to hurt him. And that's what you saw. Do you have any questions about that?"

Micah thinks for a moment, visibly moving a little closer to Fitz at the mention of 'the movie'.

"Why did someone hurt you, Dad?"

"Well, bud," Fitz sighs, collecting his thoughts, "When you're the President, it's your job to take care of every single person in the whole country."

"A hundred people?"

"Millions and _millions_ of people," he smiles, warmed by his son's innocence, "And because there's so many people, it's really hard to make everybody happy, and it's really hard for everybody to like you. In fact, lots of people didn't like me when I was the President, and that's okay, that happens to everybody that's the President. But one of those people was so mad at me, that they decided to try to hurt me. And that wasn't okay at all, was it?"

"No, you're not supposed to hurt people," Micah agrees decisively, shaking his head.

"That's right, you're not supposed to. And the person who hurt me got in very big, grown-up trouble. And they can't hurt me ever again, okay?"

Micah sighs, looking tired and a little worried. "Okay. Dad, when is it gonna be your turn to be the President again?"

Fitz shakes his head, moving to reassure him. "I'm not going to be the President again. If you want to be the President for your job, you only get one turn, and my turn is over."

"I didn't like to see that movie," Micah announces, eyes starting to fill with tears again, "I don't want to watch that movie again."

"No, pumpkin—"

"No, buddy—"

They both try to soothe him at the same time, horrified by his fear that he might have to watch his Dad ' _get hurt_ ' again.

"You don't ever have to watch that movie again, I promise," Fitz tells him, shaking his head firmly.

Micah looks up at him, mouth trembling. "Will you tell my teacher?"

"We already told your teacher. You don't ever have to watch it again, I don't want you to worry about it, okay? C'mere, give me another hug."

He gathers the little boy up, burying his nose in soft curls as they hug again, closing his eyes.

* * *

"Why is Dad yelling?" Micah asks.

Olivia glances over to the office door, which is currently muffling her husband's shouts. He's on the phone with Micah's school, no doubt with the principal herself, and he's been saving it up all afternoon.

"Umm, Dad's very mad at somebody right now," she explains, taking the pack of fruit snacks that Ruby is currently waving in her face.

"Who?"

"You know what, I don't want you to worry about it, okay?" Liv smiles, deciding that he's had enough explanation for one day, "Why don't we work on your reading? I bet by the time we do your ten pages Dad will be off the phone. Here, baby. One at a time! What do you say?"

"Tank-you, Mommy," Ruby grins, talking around her mouthful of gummy fruit.

Olivia tries desperately not to laugh, constantly trying to keep her daughter from choking herself.

" _One at a time_ ," she enunciates, holding up a finger, " _Ruby Elise_ look at me, _one_."

Ruby delicately chooses one fruit snack from the package, slowly transferring the sugary morsel into her mouth.

"Good girl, now chew that one, and _then_ take another one—no, wait a minute—"

This time she can't help but burst into laughter as Ruby makes a show of choosing _one_ gummy, completely missing the fact that the point is to chew and swallow the previous one first.

"Fine, I give up. Mommy's too tired today," she sighs, flopping back onto the couch.

As predicted, she and Micah make it through nearly all of his reading practice before Fitz emerges from the office, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"Dad!" Micah exclaims, jumping off the couch and running to hug him, "Is it time for hockey yet?"

"Hey, my man," Fitz sighs, sitting down to give him a proper hug, "Liv, what time is it? Should we feed them dinner before or during the game?"

Life goes on, and they have plans tonight.

The Washington Capitals had personally invited their family to a game, and Micah's been excited to go for weeks.

"You know what? I've been thinking about it, and I have an idea," Liv explains, coming over to sit on the floor beside them, "Micah, I was thinking that maybe I would stay home with Ruby, and you and Dad can have a special night at the hockey game, just the two of you. What do you think about that?"

"Just me and Dad?" Micah breathes, eyes wide.

"Just you and Dad," she smiles, meeting Fitz's eyes, "Does that sound like fun?"

Having one parent's undivided attention is about as good as it gets, and Micah _needs_ it today. They're both well-aware of the way he's been unconsciously clinging to Fitz ever since The Incident, as they're now calling it.

"Yeah!" Micah giggles happily, dancing around Ruby, shrieking when she tackles him to the ground.

"You sure, Liv?" Fitz asks, holding his arm out when she crawls closer.

"He needs you," she says quietly, "And he needs to do something fun. You guys should go and have a good time."

He kisses her softly, looking at her with so much gratitude. "Thank you. I think you're right, I think this will be really good for him."

"For _both_ of you. What did the school have to say?"

"Nothing I wanted to hear," he says, face darkening, "They all apologized profusely, said they had no idea that clip would be in there, said they thought they did everything they could to handle it."

"How do you not screen a documentary before you show it to first-graders?" Liv breathes, shaking her head.

"That's what I said. He's going to have nightmares."

"Maybe," she says softly, tipping her head against his shoulder, watching their kids wrestle, "Maybe not. I think he's reassured, he feels so safe with you. He trusts what you tell him."

"I _hate_ that this happened. I hate it, Liv."

"I know. But things like this are going to happen. We have some ugly stuff in our past, and they're probably going to find out about all of it at some point. Hopefully not like this—"

"— _definitely not like this_."

"Dad! Dad! Can we go?!"

"Yup, let's go buddy."

* * *

 **A/N: This was another one that just FLEW out of my brain. I got a prompt on Tumblr quite a while ago about Micah becoming aware of Fitz's presidency, this was born from that. Thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts!**


	58. Just You

**A/N: I was neutral on the premiere. Didn't love it, didn't hate it, it was pretty much what I expected. The one question I keep coming back to though, is why does Liv always need a fuckboy? Why? Doesn't she own a vibrator? This is a short alternate for 7x01, removing fuckboys from the equation.**

* * *

She's _so warm_.

" _Mmm_ …"

Fitz growls against her ear, warm hands touching her everywhere, lips trailing slowly down her neck. She shivers and tangles her fingers in his hair, encouraging him, running her palms down his back. His skin is _hot_ , and she moans softly, wrapping her thighs around his hips.

" _Baby_ …"

He's on top of her, chest pressing into her breasts; she arches against him, trying to get more pressure, more heat, more _everything_.

" _Fitz_ …"

Their hips are rocking together, but he's not inside of her yet. _God_ , why isn't he inside of her yet?

And then, he's gone.

Suddenly, he's gone, and her body feels chilled, and she wants to _scream_ —

* * *

Olivia jerks awake, panting, damp with sweat.

She rolls over, realizing she's kicked the covers off, and immediately cups her core, rocking against her palm. Her panties are damp, and she presses halfheartedly for a moment, whimpering softly.

 _Fuck_.

Her heart is beating so fast, she's so turned on that her clit is throbbing, and before she can stop herself she's reaching into her bedside table drawer for the phone, _their_ phone.

* * *

Fitz's water glass is ringing.

 _Wait, no, the alarm clock is going off—_

 _No, not—it's still dark out—oh._

He blinks sleepily in the dark, finally realizing that his ' _Liv'_ phone is ringing. Wide awake, he fumbles for it, a surge of adrenaline coursing through him at the realization that she's calling him in the middle of the night, that something might be wrong.

"Liv?"

" _Hi_ ," she whispers.

Immediately, he relaxes, knowing it's not an emergency by the tone of her voice.

"Hi," he murmurs, lying back down, adjusting his blankets, "This is a nice surprise, hearing from you in the middle of the night. I love hearing your voice, Livvie, but I've put in my fair share of late nights in the Oval already."

She's quiet for a moment, and he hears her swallow.

"I'm not working. I…I was dreaming, and— _Fitz_."

She's a little breathless, her voice soft and needy. Fitz grins, eyes slipping shut when he realizes why she's called him, what she needs.

She's never been good at satisfying herself. It's her one shortcoming when it comes to independence, and over the years it's nudged her into the arms of friends, strangers, colleagues; she's always needed a warm body.

But now, whether they can be together physically or not…she wants him.

 _Just_ him.

He's not keeping tabs on her, she could easily have fallen back into old patterns. But she hasn't, she wants _him_.

"Shh," he murmurs, hand sliding down to press gently when his cock automatically twitches, "I'm right here, Livvie."

"You're so far away," she whines breathlessly.

"No," he soothes, voice deep and soft, "Close your eyes, I'm there with you. I'm peeling off your clothes so I can see you. I want you naked. Are you naked, Livvie?"

She shifts around underneath her comforter, quickly removing her nightgown and panties, settling onto her back as she hums quietly. Her body relaxes, reacting to him involuntarily, knowing he'll take care of her.

"You're so beautiful," he says softly, palming himself, "I love your skin, I love touching you. Can you feel my hands?"

"Yes," she whispers, running her own shaky hands over her stomach and hips, trying to imagine that they're his.

Her palms are warm and soft, but they feel too small, not quite rough enough. She strokes harder, trying to trick herself, letting her legs drift open.

"I'm obsessed with your breasts," he confesses, his voice catching, "God, I love your boobs. They're the perfect size, so sensitive. I'm touching them now…your nipples are hard—"

"They are," she breathes, weighing the small, firm orbs in her palms, gently pinching her nipples, "Fitz. _I miss you_."

Her breasts are heavy, a little achy, and the massage she's giving herself feels incredible. Her hips shift restlessly, lost in his voice, the pressure around her nipples increasing the ache between her thighs.

"I know, Livvie, me too. Am I rubbing your nipples? Does it feel good?"

"Mmm. Ready to come for you… _Fitz_ —"

"Okay, _shh_. I love this, feeling how wet you are. Do you want my fingers, or my mouth, sweetheart?"

"Fingers," she moans softly, "I can't—nothing feels like your mouth—"

"Okay, I'm— _fuck_ ," he sighs, hand wrapped around his erection, stroking firmly, "I'm starting with one finger…just wanna feel you…"

She spreads her legs, sliding one finger inside of herself, moaning. Her hips tip up, pushing against her hand, trying to get more pressure.

"You're so soft inside…you're _hot_...wanna fuck you so badly but I want you to come first. You're wet enough for two fingers…"

Slipping a second finger in easily, she uses her other hand to rub her clit, rocking her hips. Her fingers aren't _his_ fingers, they're not thick enough, long enough, but she rocks against them anyway, letting his words help her pretend.

"Fuck…baby, feels so good, don't stop talking, need you," she whimpers, pressing and stroking.

"Relax, let me," he soothes, slowing his own ministrations down for a second, "I love making you come like this, Livvie. Your clit is so swollen, sweetheart, how am I touching it? Is it making your legs shake a little? Tell me."

" _Yes_ ," she pants, arching her neck to the side, "You're—circles, but _hard_ ones. Your fingers feel so good."

Fitz groans, hand moving rapidly again. "Livvie…do you feel it? Are you close?"

She moans, starting to feel sparks of pleasure, fingers drawing quick circles. " _Oh_ …I'm—are you—"

His head is filled with images of the way she looks when she's touching herself in bed with him, _for_ him. Her parted lips, the arch of her back, her glistening fingers—

He listens as her breath catches, and then she _moans_ , and _sighs_ , and he knows she's coming.

" _Baby_ …" She gasps as her muscles pulse with relief, wave after wave of pleasure shivering through her hips and up her spine.

His muscles seize and his hips jerk when he comes, wetting the inside of his boxers, stroking himself to completion.

Olivia listens to him groan, keeping light pressure against her clit as she comes down, easing her fingers out. Her eyes drift open, and then close again when she sighs, sated but not content. She won't be content until they're together, this will never be enough.

They're quiet for a few minutes, breathing and settling into bed again.

"I need to see you," Olivia sighs, arm resting over her eyes, "I miss you."

"I'm here, Liv. You're the one who wanted to have laser focus for the first one hundred days," he smirks, enjoying the fact that the separation she insisted upon seems to be taking more of a toll on her than she'd anticipated.

"Are you _enjoying_ this?"

"A little," he chuckles, picturing her slightly annoyed expression, the way her eyes will have narrowed, "But I'm hurting too, you know. Just because I can get _myself_ off, unlike some people—"

"—oh my _god_ —"

"—doesn't mean I don't miss the hell out of you. Because I do. I miss you."

"So much it hurts," she whispers, sobering, vulnerable in the aftermath of her orgasm.

Fitz takes a deep breath, closing his eyes.

"Come to Vermont, Livvie. Just for the weekend. I know it's—I know it's overwhelming."

Her breath catches when she thinks about their house, about the last time they were there together.

"It's not overwhelming," she murmurs, holding the phone closer, "I want to. I will. I'm—I want to see you. Soon."

He releases a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, relieved that she's not afraid.

"Good."

"Good," she smiles.

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you thought!**


	59. Slowly

**A/N: 7x02 post-ep...**

* * *

Her cheeks are still burning with embarrassment, and the worst part is, she's _completely_ caught off guard.

She wouldn't have guessed she'd feel embarrassed to be caught with Curtis, but she is, suddenly. She'd like to think it's just because no one knows they've been sleeping together, and it's always embarrassing to be caught in the act (almost). She'd even like to think it's because she hasn't _really_ let herself be present in the fact that she's sleeping with someone she just met, and she's not even sure why.

But deep down, she knows it's because they haven't been caught by just anyone, they've been caught by _him_ , the one person she's never been able to hide from. Suddenly, her carefully controlled world, this new, impeccably perfect costume she's been putting on every day, is in danger of coming apart at the seams.

Because of _him_.

Instinctually, she goes on the defense, and then she's angry, because what gives him the right? How dare he come here and ruin her fun, ruin her chance at an orgasm?

And now, she's even _more_ angry, because as she shuts her door she realizes he's _laughing_.

She turns to give him a _look_ , and he holds his hands up, still chuckling.

"I'm sorry," he gets out, sinking onto her couch, "But this is just—it's so ironic, that I would come here tonight, missing you, and accidentally catch you bringing some random guy home—"

"—he's not _random_ ," she scoffs, crossing her arms.

"Do you realize how hysterical that was?" Fitz laughs, pointing at the door, "He shook my hand, talked for five minutes about how big of a fan he is of mine, shook _your_ hand, and then took off!"

"We obviously didn't expect you to be here," she seethes, narrowing her eyes at him.

He sits up with a gasp. "Wait a minute, I know him! Doesn't he have that new show…what's it called again?"

Olivia sighs, rolling her eyes, still standing near her front door even while he's made himself right at home. " _Pryce_ of Power."

"Yes! The play on words with his last name! Curtis Pryce, that's who that was. He was so flustered he didn't even introduce himself—"

"You know what, I'm really glad you're enjoying this."

"Did you guys meet when you were on his show a few weeks ago? For some reason I thought he was married. Although—"

"—he's not married, and if you even _think_ about finishing that sentence—"

"Liv, what are you _doing_?"

"Who I choose to bring home with me is none of your business."

"He didn't even look like a very good kisser, I think you could do better. Sloppy."

"Stop it," she hisses, rounding on him, "You have no right! You have no right to come here, all perfect hair and Vermont-casual, and start making judgements about my life. You have _no right_."

His face sobers, finally, and he stares at her for a moment. "You think I wanted to come here and catch you like—like _that_? With some other guy's tongue in your mouth? You think it doesn't make me sick to see someone else's hands on you? You think that doesn't make me _crazy_?"

"I don't care if it makes you crazy!" she yells, laughing humorlessly, "I don't have to run my decisions by you, or anyone else anymore. _I'm_ running the show now. Me."

" _Oh_ ," he breathes, nodding as if he understands perfectly, "That's right. You're all-powerful now, I forgot. You're right, that means you can do whatever you want, sleep with whoever you want, blackmail whoever you want—"

Her face blanches and Fitz sighs, leaning forward against his thighs.

"What?" he asks her coldly, taking in a surprised look on her face for the second time in twenty minutes, "Have _you_ forgotten that I have friends in this town too? Did you think you were being sly, and secretive, blackmailing some of the most important people in the world? Wake up, Olivia. There _are_ no secrets in this town when it comes to blackmail, not if you know the right people."

She looks down for a moment, nodding slowly, and he can see her steeling herself, trying to keep him at arm's length.

"Why are you here?" she asks, finally, turning empty eyes on him.

"I don't know, Liv," he sighs, standing up, walking toward her, "Maybe because the last time I saw you, you kissed me in front of the entire world, and then disappeared for three months—"

"I didn't disappear, I've been right here, very publicly visible in fact—"

"You _know_ what I mean," Fitz says, raising his voice, "We were doing this—this, undefined— _whatever_ , and then you asked me to stay here, _with you_ , which you knew full well I couldn't do. And then you disappeared! What the hell, Olivia!"

"So, you came here to yell at me?" she asks, voice shaking, trying to ignore the way his body heat makes her head spin.

"If that's what it takes. What are you _doing_?"

"Why do you keep asking me that?"

"Because I know you," he says softly, coming to stand in front of her, "If I thought you were happy slinging dirty secrets in exchange for votes—"

"—don't pretend that's why you came here. You're jealous, because you caught me with someone else."

He stares at her for a moment, and then looks down, chuckling darkly as he shoves his hands back into his pockets.

"Olivia, I don't care who you sleep with. I really don't. Because I know it doesn't mean anything and I think you know that, too. I don't even want to speculate on why you're doing it, because you're allowed. You're allowed to have sex, as much of it as you want, I won't shame you for that."

She stares at him, nodding, trying to put on her most defiant face. "I am allowed. And I'm careful, too, no one is going to find out."

Fitz shrugs, taking another step forward. "Great. That's _just great_. I'm really glad he makes you happy. Jake too, I'm sure he's in the mix every now and then."

"Stop it," she whispers, cursing herself when her eyes fill with tears.

 _Stupid, traitorous emotions_

"Why? Isn't it making you happy? Isn't this everything you've ever wanted?" he asks quietly, taking one last step forward so that they're toe-to-toe, "Wielding your power? Doing what you think needs to be done, no matter who you hurt? Ordering a man into your bed for a nice, meaningless fuck whenever you need it? Aren't you happy?"

He's taking every truth, every feeling that she's been pushing away, and shoving it in her face. He's echoing the little voice in the back of her head, the one that whispers to her when she indirectly threatens a child, or manipulates a vote with dirty intel, or takes her clothes off for a man who doesn't understand her, doesn't _deserve_ her; Fitz _is_ that voice, she realizes. He hasn't been the loudest voice lately, but he's still there, all the time.

He's a mirror, always reflecting the glaring truth straight back into her eyes, blinding her with it.

Her eyes are swimming with tears now, and he instantly feels bad for giving her such a hard time, but he loves her too much to let her continue to self-destruct. He _knows_ the truth, he _knows_ she's struggling, trying to cope in ways that aren't healthy for her, and it breaks his heart.

And then she shocks him by stepping into his body, and wrapping her arms around his chest.

"Hmm," he murmurs, gently pulling her close, "What's this?"

"Shut up," she whispers, turning her face into his neck, "God, just _shut up_ , and hold me for a minute. I really— _really_ —need one minute."

He folds her into his arms without question, and instantly her world stops spinning so quickly.

 _There_.

Now _this_ , is safe, secure, familiar, _right_.

"Okay," he agrees softly, wrapping her up, "We can do that. One minute."

Something magical happens when they agree to one minute. It can be about either person, or both of them together, but it becomes whatever they need it to be; it can be soothing, almost medicinal, or recharging. It can be a way for them to reconnect, one minute for them to focus one hundred percent on each other. Right now, it's about her, and he knows she's grounding herself, coming _back_ to herself.

"I miss you," he confesses, lips pressed into her hair, "What happened? Where are you?"

Her eyes close, cheek resting above his heart. "I don't know. This is…it's harder than I thought it would be."

The shock and embarrassment melts away, and she nestles closer to him.

 _Fitz._

 _Fitz is here._

Olivia takes a deep breath, breathing him in, letting him warm her inside and out. She gets the most astonishing clarity when she's with him, always, and it blows her away every single time. It's like being near him silences the noise, all of the voices that don't matter, and she can finally hear _herself_ think.

God, he _saw them_.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, pulling back to cradle his face, "I'm sorry, that I—that you saw us. I would never do that to you on purpose, you know that."

"I do know that," he murmurs, giving her a sad smile, "Doesn't mean it didn't hurt."

Their eyes lock solidly, and she strokes his jawline. "I know it's cliché, but…it doesn't mean anythi—"

"I know, Liv," he nods, brushing the hair away from her forehead, stroking her temple with his thumb.

She tucks herself against his chest again, humming quietly when his arms come up to hug her securely.

"I missed you," she whispers, slowly rubbing his back.

"Do you?"

For the first time tonight he sounds hurt, and when she looks up at him his eyes are stormy and sad.

"Of course," she breathes, brows furrowing.

"Then why haven't you called? We didn't—it didn't feel like the end, when I left. We talked about it like it was but…when you kissed me—"

"—I know," she murmurs, nodding in agreement, eyes big and glassy, "I—I've been so…"

She trails off and looks down, shaking her head in frustration.

"Overwhelmed?" he suggests, raising his eyebrows.

"Overwhelmed," she sighs, resting her forehead against his chest, "It's so intense. So much. I thought I knew but…I didn't."

He rubs her back, gently grips her hips. "Well, communications director and chief of staff are two different things."

"I know, I just thought…I've advised you for _years_. I thought I'd have it under control. And I _do_ , for the most part."

"Liv, it's okay to admit that it's scary. Being responsible for the country is fucking _scary_ , trust me, I _know_."

She nods against his chest, still hiding her face, breathing him in.

"Why did you come here?" she murmurs, absently running her hands over his sides.

"Because I thought…I thought, maybe, you needed me to."

He's so vulnerable, putting his feelings on the line, risking the sting of an unrequited declaration like that.

She looks up and holds his gaze for a few seconds, nodding gently.

"I did."

* * *

It should be awkward, waiting while she brushes the taste of someone else off her tongue, but for some reason it isn't. He knows from experience that it's so _meaningless_ , kissing anyone else, having sex with anyone else. When he's been with other women, even ones he's cared about…nothing and no one comes anywhere close to Olivia, to _them_. She has his heart, and he knows that he has hers, and because of that no one else matters.

She may have taken her clothes off for other men, but she bares her soul for him, and him alone.

Pushing the thoughts from his mind, he follows her into the bathroom, waits while she squeezes out a strip of toothpaste. She catches his eyes in the mirror, giving him a soft smile as she leans back against him and starts to brush. He supports her weight, cupping her hips, fingering the material of her dress.

 _Her dress._

 _Jesus._

It hugs every perfect curve, dips just enough at her chest that's it's both tasteful and tantalizing. He gently fingers the sparkly bits, feeling the warmth of her skin through the fabric, unconsciously looking for the zipper. These fucking fancy, expensive dresses she chooses, they _always_ have hidden zippers.

Without preamble, he leans down and starts to press long, tender kisses against her neck, dragging his lips against her skin, gently nipping with his teeth the way she likes. It's comical when he glances up and sees her reflection in the mirror, eyes closed in bliss, toothbrush frozen in her mouth. Her eyes flutter open when he stops, and she nearly sprays toothpaste everywhere in an effort to contain her laughter, leaning over to finish brushing.

When she's finished, he turns her around and pins her back against the sink, finally skimming his lips over hers. He feels the breath leave her chest, cool and minty against his mouth as he makes her wait for it. She's there with him, ready to fall into it, gaze calm and steady as he looks into her eyes.

It's different this time. She wasn't so far gone that she couldn't easily come back to him.

Slowly, they're learning.

She doesn't moan when they kiss, she just sighs, like she's been waiting her whole life for it.

* * *

A little while later, when they're finally naked and warm in her bed, before he's inside of her, she presses her forehead to his.

"Baby, _slow_."

His breath catches when she asks him for _slow_.

They haven't done _slow_ in…a long time.

Before his term ended, when they'd been sleeping together, it'd been _fire_. Hot enough to make it hard to breathe, playful and fun and perfect, but it hadn't been _slow_.

 _Slow_ means more eye contact, more kissing, more feeling, and they just haven't been in the right place for it. _Slow_ means making love— _really_ making love—it means she might cry, because it's so intense; it means he might breathe ' _I love you's_ ' against her ear for long minutes while he rocks into her, and she might whisper it right back.

 _Slow_ is vulnerable.

But he wants it, he wants her _slow_.

* * *

 **A/N: Wanted to get this up before tomorrow's Fitztravaganza ep. Hopefully this was as healing to read as it was to write. Let me know what you thought!**


	60. Texts From Rutland

**A/N: The idea for this 7x03 post-ep/rewrite came directly from iWrite4Olitz, who was happy to let me write it (because she is neck-deep in writing her second novel, as we all know). HUGE thanks to her for brainstorming with me, and being the best beta ever. In this scenario, everything is canon, but Fitz does not go back to D.C.  
**

* * *

The morning after Marcus talks him out of flying back to D.C., Fitz adopts a dog.

The dog's name is Archie, and he's the most serious-looking dog Fitz has ever laid eyes on. As he walks through the shelter, he immediately stops in front of the beagle-mix's cage, fascinated by the way the dog is staring off into the distance.

"This is Archie," his shelter guide tells him, "He's very…umm…mellow."

 _Depressed_.

The dog looks depressed, not _mellow_. In fact, as they stand there, Fitz actually thinks he sees Archie take a deep breath and sigh, lying down on his side, blinking up at them. He imagines he must look the same way each night when he falls into bed, alone, reflecting on life's purpose now that he's out of office.

"I'll take him."

* * *

The same day that he brings Archie home, Marcus starts sticking Post-it notes on everything.

 _Open me._

Fitz opens the kitchen cabinet to reveal a plethora of spices on a rotating spice rack.

 _Use_ _me._

He grins, taking down a jar of smoked paprika, another of dried oregano. There's another note stuck to the stove, along with a jar of marinara sauce.

 _Man cannot live on chicken alone…_

 _Penne – 10 minutes_

 _Spaghetti – 8 minutes_

 _Macaroni – 8 minutes_

There are more notes, on his bathroom mirror…

 _Cufflinks – bookshelf_

 _Watch – bedside table_

 _Passwords – desk drawer_

…and in his office…

 _Apple iPhone Customer Support -_ _1-800-694-7466_

 _Tech Support For Seniors - 1-800-395-3957_

"Seriously?" Fitz asks, walking out as Marcus is packing up for the night, Archie following at his heels.

Marcus takes one look at the note he's holding and shakes his head.

"Man, don't even give me that. You called me in a huff the other day about your computer being broken, and it _wasn't even turned on_."

" _It turned itself off_ , for the last time," he argues, brows furrowing.

"Don't lose those numbers," Marcus orders, pointing, "Call them before you call me, they get paid to deal with old white guys."

"So do you," Fitz points out, trying not to laugh.

Marcus claps his hands against Fitz's shoulders, sighing. "Not enough, Mr. President. Not enough. What's up with this dog? Is he okay?"

Archie is sitting at Fitz's heels, blinking solemnly.

"He's just a serious guy," Fitz says, leaning down to pet him gently, "He's dealing with some things, internally, wrestling with a few demons. Right, Archie?"

Marcus is staring at him with raised eyebrows. "Whatever. Oh, one more before I go."

He sticks a Post-it to the front of Fitz's sweater, slinging his bag up and turning to leave.

 _COSsm  
202-555-3957_

"What is this?" he asks, looking confused.

Marcus sighs, turning back. "I know you're worried about her. And I don't think going to D.C. is the right move, but…from what I've heard, it probably wouldn't hurt to check on her."

 _COSsm…Chief of Staff secure mobile_

The abbreviation comes back to him immediately, and suddenly the note is burning his fingertips. With the power to contact _her_ , comes danger, comes a slippery slope, comes the potential for incredible heartache.

Fitz nods, swallowing. "Thanks. I'll think about it."

* * *

He doesn't really need to think about it.

That night, with Archie curled up at his side, Fitz puts her number into his brand new iPhone and stares at it for fifteen minutes. When push comes to shove, he has no idea what he wants to say to her, other than, ' _are you okay?_ '. He knows she won't answer that question, not truthfully anyway, so what's the point? If she's really as far gone as her father's claiming, she won't answer the phone at all.

Actually, he can think of a thousand things he wants to say that she won't want to hear.

 _I'm in our house, and you're not._

 _I miss you so much it hurts, sometimes._

 _I wish you could smell the air here._

 _I actually like running here, it's relaxing._

It's the mundane that he misses the most, he realizes.

 _When something happens, you're the one I wanna talk to._

He closes the "phone" app, and opens the "messages" app instead. Maybe…she won't answer the phone, but would she read a message? He feels a little pathetic, contemplating sending a message that will undoubtedly go unanswered…but if she at least knows that he's here, that she can talk to him if she wants to…

Mind made up, he adjusts his glasses, sitting up straighter in bed.

"Alright, Archie, what do we say? Hmm?"

Archie blinks his eyes open, stares at him for a moment, then goes back to sleep.

"That's alright," he murmurs, stroking his soft brown fur, "I need to figure this one out on my own, huh?"

He sighs, directing his gaze back toward the phone in his hand.

 _Why does it have to be so complicated? Just type something._

 _ **F: Hi.**_

His finger hovers over the 'send' arrow for a few seconds, and then, with a single touch he extends an olive branch. The phone makes a little noise and his message swims up into a bubble, officially out of his hands and into hers. He likes the idea of that, he discovers, that they're connected again, that she's reading something his index finger just typed.

 _ **F: I wanted to tell you I adopted a dog. His name is Archie.**_

Mundane, indeed.

 _ **F: He's a little depressed, but, we're working on it.**_

Fitz sighs, satisfied somehow.

 _ **F: We're doing okay. Just wanted you to know.**_

* * *

Olivia nearly drops her Blackberry when his first text comes through.

He's _texting_ her now?

It's a number she doesn't recognize, and there's no signature attached, but there's only one person who would send her that greeting. She sets the phone back on top of her desk and breathes for a moment, bracing her palms against the solid wood. Her phone buzzes a few more times and she sees more messages popping up, but she closes her eyes.

 _No. No. No. Not now. I need to stay focused._

She manages to delete the notifications without really reading them, seeing something about a dog on quick glance, breathing a sigh of relief when her phone stops buzzing.

* * *

He's not surprised at all when she doesn't answer him.

In fact, he finds that he doesn't really mind her silence. Marcus explains to him that because his messages still go through, she's getting them, probably even reading them, she just isn't responding.

For some reason, he's okay with that.

He's okay knowing that his words are going somewhere, even if there's nothing coming back to him. It's therapeutic, in a way, and maybe at some point he'll work up the nerve to send her the things he _really_ wants her to hear. Then, hopefully, he won't need to send messages into a void anymore, his grieving process over Olivia Pope will finally be complete.

For now, he texts her whenever the spirit moves him, and doesn't think about her reaction.

* * *

Once the texts start, they don't stop.

A quick sweep of her phone by her most trusted secret service agent confirms that they're from Fitz, but when Ben asks if she'd like the number blocked, she can't say yes.

At first, she keeps ignoring the messages, letting them pile up unread. The tiny number above her message icon taunts her, dares her to open them, to let him in, even just a little bit.

Why can't she _ever_ be strong when it comes to this man?

It's infuriating.

The fact that her wine consumption has gone up by at least forty percent upon becoming Chief of Staff doesn't help, and that's how she finds herself staring at her phone late one night. She pokes at it absently, staring at the little number, which has grown by at least one message each day.

 _She could just read a few._

 _Just to satisfy her curiosity._

 _It's harmless, really._

It's all bullshit, but she rolls her eyes, annoyed with herself, and picks up her phone.

 _ **F: I think Archie might be perking up a little.  
F: His eyes look different. Subtle, but as his Dad, I can tell.**_

Seriously? He's texting her about his dog?

Involuntarily, her mind conjures up his image along with a dog at his side.

 _ **F: Archie likes to run, I've discovered.  
F: His legs are short. But he is fast.**_

Surprisingly, warmth floods her chest at the thought of him running in Vermont with his little companion. He's free now, and she's happy for him, happy that he seems to have found some peace.

 _ **F: The library is really shaping up.  
F: I complained about going through all this old stuff.  
F: But I'm really enjoying it.**_

Of course, he'll be working on his library, the monument to his life in politics. She wonders what it will look like, if she'll ever be able to bring herself to visit.

 _ **F: I tried to make ribs in a pressure cooker today.  
F: They disintegrated and I'm not sure why… **_

She hiccups, coughing after she accidentally inhales a bit of wine. The thought of him attempting to cook is comical, and it makes her giggle before she can stop herself. For the first time, she wants to write back, she wants to tease him.

But she doesn't.

* * *

He keeps messaging her, and she keeps ignoring him.

He's not sure why he keeps going, but after a while it becomes habit, and it's almost unconscious after that. If anything, he feels like he's texting her _more_ , not less, the way he'd thought maybe he would. He's not sure how to feel about that, and he's sure it isn't healthy, but it makes him feel close to her, and he needs that right now. He's supposed to be moving on, but there have been so many huge, monumental changes in his life recently that he needs _something_ to hold on to.

Somehow, he knows she's reading, and that's more comforting than anything else.

* * *

 _ **F: Archie just sneezed for the first time. It was terrifying.**_

So many of his messages make her laugh, and it feels _good_ to laugh. In a world that's become all work, _all the time_ , laughter is hard to come by, and she doesn't realize how much she needs it until it's happening.

 _ **F: Why are there so many kinds of turkey?  
F: Like, for a turkey sandwich?**_

That one makes her laugh _and_ confuses her all at the same time, because she had _no idea_ there were different kinds of turkey. She wants to tell him that, but she keeps her fingers away from the keyboard. That particular topic continues:

 _ **F: When did this happen? What is bold salsalito turkey breast?  
F: I'm annoyed.  
F: I got six different kinds, will report back.**_

And then, a few hours later:

 _ **F: The smoked turkey was the best.**_

There are messages that take her breath away too, messages that make her eyes fill with tears if she isn't careful about keeping her emotions in check.

 _ **F: Sometimes I still ask myself what you would do.**_

She finds herself wanting to know _everything_. What kinds of situations has he found himself in that he'd need to ask that question?

 _ **F: I dreamt about you last night.  
F: I hate myself for it.**_

Those messages make her exhale a shaky breath. She's dreamt about him too, so many times, woken up aching, burning, wet.

 _ **F: Saw you annihilate on CNN.  
F: I've never been more proud of you.**_

She sets the phone down and closes her eyes, face hot with flashes of shame.

If he only knew.

* * *

Later, he'll credit a moment of weakness with changing everything between them.

He's _tired_.

Tired of being lonely, tired of going through his post-Presidency transition period, tired of answering the same questions over, and _over_ again.

Tired of missing her.

And so, he has a moment of weakness, because he's human.

 _ **F: Liv, are you even out there? Are you reading these?  
F: I just want to know that you're okay.  
F: Are you okay?**_

His heart stops when, after weeks of silence, his phone chirps with a response.

 _ **L: not okay**_

He's pressing 'call' before he can stop himself, before he can even think about it, holding his breath when the line picks up.

" _Hi."_

 _ **"Hi."**_

* * *

 _ **A/N: This may have a part II, haven't decided yet. Hope you guys liked it!**_


	61. Remember You

_**A/N: Short fill-in for 7x04...BEFORE Liv found out that Rowan used Fitz as a pawn.**_

* * *

Fitz listens to her desperate little whimpers and sighs, the noises she always makes after they've been apart, when she's been with other people.

 _Relief._

They're sounds of relief, of relaxation, of exquisite pleasure.

No one hits her spots the way he does, no one knows her body the way he does.

" _There…_ "

She sighs the word and he stops, pulling his mouth away and pinning her hips to the bed.

"I know _where_ ," he rasps, nuzzling in to her hip crease and biting hard, "I _know_. Do you think I don't?"

 _How_ _ **dare**_ _you let anyone else touch you._

He doesn't need to say it out loud because she _knows,_ too.

" _M'sorry_ ," she whimpers, trying to flex her hips, her breath catching, "Feels so good, I just—I can't—you're right, we're better, we're always better— _ohh_ —"

" _Shh_ ," he soothes, opening his mouth against her wet center, sucking a kiss over her clit.

Her hands are in his hair, gently clutching and pulling as he goes back to the task at hand, trying to decide exactly what she needs to come. It's always a little different, and he experiments with a few things before he decides that pressure is her trigger tonight. He brings her right to the edge with his mouth, dipping his thumb inside of her for a second before he presses it hard against her clit, rubbing in quick circles.

As predicted, she shatters, moaning softly and sobbing his name. She's _so_ sexy, and it makes him groan against the soft skin of her inner thigh as he watches her come.

" _Fitz…Fitz…_ "

Liv pulls him up and flips them over, settling on top of him and grinding her hips down, reaching for his belt.

 _Wait…_

He's a little disoriented for a second, not at all finished enjoying her orgasm, distracted by the throbbing in his pants. He needs more of her, more kissing, more everything; but she's already reaching into his pants, stroking him firmly—

"Wait, Liv…wait— _wait._ "

Fitz gently lifts her off his lap, sliding out from underneath her and standing up to pace the room, adjusting himself. When he turns back to look at her she seems a little shocked, covering her lap with a blanket, pulling up her camisole.

"What's wrong?" she breathes, smoothing her hair, looking at him uneasily.

He paces for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts, but he's so aroused that he's having trouble.

"I just—we can't just—christ, Olivia. I'm not about this life!" he blurts out, throwing his arms open.

There's a long pause while she stares at him blankly, and for a second he's not sure how that phrase managed to come out, or whether she's understood him. Then, her lips start to twitch, and then she's _laughing_ from deep in her belly, covering her mouth with both hands, falling back into the bed. The sound is so beautiful, and he's missed it so much that he starts to laugh too, looking a little sheepish.

"I'm, uh…I'm not sure where that came from," he laughs, running a hand through his hair.

"You've been hanging out with Marcus too much," she giggles, rolling on the bed.

Laughing, he makes his way back over to the bed, sitting down on the edge. He can't help but keep smiling, because _she's_ smiling, and the sight has become too rare. Their laughter tapers off, and they're left staring at each other. Oliva surprises him by reaching for his hand, sitting up and lacing their fingers together.

"You're mad at me," she states softly, clarifying when he looks away, "For the other night."

Fitz sighs, squeezing her hand a few times.

"I'm a little angry," he nods, raising his eyebrows, "I don't like seeing you with your tongue down some other guy's throat—"

"—Fitz—"

"— _but_ , I can acknowledge that, technically, we ended things. I'm not accusing you of anything. But, you know how I feel about you, that doesn't just go away. And that's not why I stopped," he says, leveling his gaze with hers.

"Why did you stop?" she asks quietly, looking a little apprehensive to hear his answer.

He takes a moment, letting his eyes roam her face, taking a deep breath.

"I'm tired of fucking you, Liv," he sighs, clear blue eyes filled with a sadness she's not sure she's ever seen before, "It's—god, you drive me insane, and it's easy to do it, we're so _hot_ together. But I'm tired of it. _I want to slow down_. I want to feel like you're really _there_ with me, I'm so tired of pretending—"

He breaks off, swallowing hard, blinking at her. She sits up a little straighter, breath catching because she's pretty sure he's about to tell her that he loves her again, and that's going to make her chest crack open.

"—I'm tired of pretending that I don't want to make love to you. I want to be _us_ , Liv. But I feel you pushing me away, I feel you holding me at arms' length, and it _hurts_. I can't do this with you if I don't feel like we're connected. I won't."

She's nodding slowly as she listens to him, looking down at the blankets. When she meets his eyes again, hers are full of tears, wide and glassy.

"I don't know if I remember how to do that," she whispers, suddenly looking more like the woman he recognizes, the woman he'd fallen hopelessly in love with.

She looks _afraid_ , like she truly believes that she's forgotten how to love him like that, even though she desperately wants to.

"Of course you do," he murmurs, automatically shifting closer to her, brows furrowing with emotion, "It's easy. It's like breathing. We got it on the first try, remember?"

That _almost_ gets a smile, and he cradles her cheek in his palm, heart skipping when she leans in, nuzzling.

Sniffling, she wipes at a tear and then lays her palm over his hand. "Maybe…maybe you could walk me through it? Help me remember?"

"Liv…"

They fall back against her pillows, sinking into a long kiss.

"Well, this is a good first step," he murmurs, dipping his mouth down to her neck, "You're supposed to let me kiss you. _Everywhere_. You love it when I do that."

She whimpers softly, threading her fingers into his hair. " _I do_."

He hums, peeling the straps of her camisole down, nuzzling her breasts. "We're supposed to take our time, sometimes. Remember?"

She can't answer him because she's falling, holding him close to ground herself as her world shifts.

 _She's falling_.

This time, when she reaches for his belt he lets her; lets her undress him, wrap her legs around his bare hips and pull him inside of her. She holds him there, reaching up to cradle his face, letting him look at her.

And she's there.

 _Liv_ is looking back at him, finally, and it's just _everything_.

He leans down to kiss her and she sobs into his mouth, trying to breathe as he rubs his lips against hers. Her tongue slides against his, fingers in his curls, pressing into his back, stroking his jaw. As he starts to move, she cups his neck and brings his forehead to hers, whispering, breathing unevenly against his lips.

" _I remember…I remember…_ "

* * *

 _ **A/N: I was all in my feels listening to the new T-Swift, 'Call It What You Want', while I wrote the ending of this, if you want to feel the tone of it even more. Let me know what you thought!**_


	62. For The Love Of Turtles

_**A/N: I've had a handful of requests for this, and I definitely wanted to write it, but it took me a minute to come up with the right scenario. This is pre-Ruby, just so we're all on the same page.**_

* * *

 _ **Micah - 3 years old**_

"C'mere you," Liv murmurs, cuddling her warm, freshly-bathed toddler, "You had a big day today, huh? Did Javi come over?"

"Umm, yes. And we played!"

"What did you play?" she asks, working a little bit of coconut oil through his curls.

"Umm…"

"Did you play outside?"

"In the playhouse, and, umm, a popsicle."

"Oh, you had a popsicle, too? That sounds yummy. What color?"

"Green."

"Hold still please, one more minute," she says, gently teaching him that taking care of his hair is serious business, "You love the green ones. I think it's going to rain tonight, bud."

Just as she says it, glancing out the window, the sky lights up.

"There might be thunder," she warns him quietly, "But remember, it's nothing to be afraid of."

A rumble of thunder isn't far behind the lightning, and Micah whimpers a little.

"I don't like it, Mommy."

"I know, it's okay. What book do you want to read?"

He's always hated thunder, and typically ends up in their bed at some point if it storms overnight. She can already hear rain starting to hit the roof, and moves to distract him as quickly as possible.

Micah cautiously walks over to his bookshelf, looking out the window at the lightning. "Umm, I want Dragons Love Tacos."

"That's a _great_ choice. That one always makes us laugh, huh? C'mere, let's get all cozy and we'll read for a little while."

Another rumble of thunder rolls through, making him jump, and he scurries into bed.

"Here, Mommy," he says, offering her the book, snuggling into her side.

"Okay, here we go—"

"—where's Henry?" Micah asks, looking around in his bed.

"Of course, we need Henry. I don't see him. Is he downstairs?"

They toss blankets and pillows aside, searching for the beloved turtle as the storm intensifies outside, whipping rain against the house.

"Oh!" Micah gasps, face suddenly stricken, "The playhouse!"

"Henry's in the playhouse?" she asks, eyes widening, "That's okay, ba—"

But it's too late, his little face is already scrunching up and big, sad tears are rolling down his cheeks.

"Henry is _scared_ ," he sobs, reaching his arms around her neck.

"Oh, pumpkin," she sighs, laughing a little, pulling him into her arms, "It's okay. Henry's okay, he's a turtle! He _loves_ water."

"No he doesn't," Micah hiccups pitifully, burying his face in her shoulder.

"Shh, baby, it's okay."

Fitz appears in the doorway, looking concerned. "What happened? What's with the tears?"

"He left Henry outside in the playhouse," Liv explains, rocking Micah back and forth, "He's afraid the storm is scaring him."

His face relaxes knowingly, and he crosses to them, kneeling down to rub his son's back. "Hey, bud, it's okay. How about if I go out and get him?"

"You are—are getting Henry, Daddy?" Micah hiccups, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his pajamas.

Fitz smiles calmly, stroking Micah's curls. "Of course I will. C'mon, let's go downstairs and get a bag. That way he won't even get wet."

Liv watches as he takes Micah's hand, winking at her as they leave his bedroom and head downstairs. She follows them into the kitchen, watching as Fitz lets Micah pull a leftover plastic grocery bag from their stash in the pantry, talking to him soothingly.

"Perfect. Daddy will go out to the playhouse and put Henry in here, nice and safe. How's that?"

"Yeah," Micah nods, still sniffling, eyeing the thunderstorm that's lashing against the kitchen windows.

They all troop over to the sliding glass door, and Fitz eyes the sheets of rain whipping through their yard.

"So…do you want an umbrella?" Liv asks, giggling a little bit.

"I guess so," he chuckles, stuffing the plastic bag into his pocket and grabbing one that's leaning near the door, "Okay, I'll be right back."

Olivia kneels down, wrapping her arms around Micah as they watch Fitz step outside.

"Go, Daddy!" Micah chirps, squinting against the spray of rain that manages to hit them before the door closes again.

As soon as Fitz attempts to open the umbrella, it flips inside-out, no match for the howling wind. They watch as he lets it blow away and takes off running toward the playhouse.

"Oh no," Liv giggles, giving Micah a squeeze, "Daddy is going to get all wet."

"That 'brella is—is, umm, _gone_!"

"Yep, it sure is. Oh look, there he goes, he just went in the playhouse."

Micah hops a little, peering through the glass. "Henry is there!"

"Daddy's getting him, don't worry bud. Here he comes!"

Fitz charges through the yard, head bowed against the rain, plastic bag clutches securely in hand. She nudges Micah out of the way and opens the door, watching as Fitz darts inside and slides across the tile floor. He's soaked head to toe, and he stands still for a second, looking shell shocked.

"Yay!" Micah cheers, clapping.

"Wow," Fitz gasps, panting and shaking out his sopping hair like a dog, "That is some storm!"

"Henry is okay, Daddy?"

He kneels down and triumphantly pulls the turtle out of his bag, presenting him to Micah. "He is just fine."

"Henry!"

Micah grabs his beloved turtle and squeezes tight, burying his face in the plushy for a deep inhale.

"C'mon, pumpkin, let's go get Daddy some towels," Liv smiles, guiding Micah back into the kitchen.

* * *

Turtle once again in hand, Micah goes to bed easily, barely stirring as Liv presses a gentle kiss to his forehead. She closes his door, lost in thought as she slowly pads down the hallway to their bedroom.

Fitz is just out of a hot shower, wrapping a towel around his waist as she comes to stand in the bathroom doorway.

"Did he fall asleep?"

"Yeah," she nods, leaning against the doorframe, watching him.

"Man, he _loves_ that turtle. I don't know if we should be concerned or not, that he's so attached to it. I mean, I think it's really cute, but who knows," he says, rubbing his hair with another towel, oblivious to the fact that she's staring at him, "People always say things like 'he won't take it to college', but what if he _does_ take it to college? Did you have a security item like that when you were younger? I feel like a lot of kids have them, I remember having a bear."

"Marry me," she breathes, eyes warm and soulful.

He snorts, not even looking at her, reaching for his toothbrush. "Is my extra day at the gym really working for you that much, Livvie?"

"I'm serious," she says softly, and this time he picks up on the emotion in her voice, turning to look at her.

Her expression takes his breath away. "What?"

She crosses to stand in front of him, leaning back against the sink, resting her hands against his sides. "Will you marry me?"

He's in shock, still holding his toothbrush. "What?"

Now she smiles widely, because he's so damn cute, reaching up to gently close his open mouth with her index finger. "Will…you…marry…me?"

Still, he looks like he can't comprehend what she's saying, shaking his head slightly in complete and utter confusion. "I'm sorry… _what?_ You're serious?"

"I'm serious," she whispers, smoothing his wet hair, "I…I've been thinking about it lately. Not on purpose, just—I've just been thinking about it. A _lot_. I love you _so much_ , and I love our life, and tonight…you're such a good dad. You're so good to us, and I…I want you, forever. I've never been more sure of that. I want to be your wife."

His eyes have filled with tears as she talks, toothbrush falling into the sink as his hands cradle her face. "You _are_ serious. Oh my god. You want to get married?"

"Yes," she breathes, nodding, hands coming up to stroke his forearms, "Will you? Do you want to?"

"Livvie, of _course_ —"

"Really?"

He kisses her instead of answering, pouring all of his _'yes'_ into it, pressing his lips to hers over and over again. "I love you—"

"—love you— _Fitz_ —"

They haven't been this frantic in _ages_ , fumbling around to get her clothes off as quickly as possible, throwing his towel to the floor. She nudges him back into the shower, and turns the water on to muffle their sounds, not wanting to hold back at all.

* * *

A little while later they're sprawled in bed, still damp and ever so slightly out of breath. Her hand slides over to find his hair, fingers playing lazily as he grins at her.

"You're not going to let me get you a diamond, are you?"

She wrinkles her nose. "This isn't about that, for me."

"I know," he sighs, reaching up to lace their fingers together.

They're quiet for a moment, completely blissed out.

"I mean, technically I asked you, maybe I should get _you_ a diamond—"

Fitz cuts her off, laughing and rolling her beneath him.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I updated TWICE today, go back 1 chapter to check out my 7x04 fill-in, "Remember You"...I missed this family! Let me know your thoughts!**_


	63. Lazarus: I

**A/N: Well, guys, I've finally gathered the mental energy to tackle this beast of a mid-S7 canon fic. The premise for this, is that Olivia loses everything (which is what I believe needs to happen). Mellie finds out what she's done and fires her, dissolves B613, and Liv has to come to grips with all the terrible things she's done. This will be multiple parts, and more details will come later. I've been using Don't Blame Me from the new T Swift album as my song inspo, if you're interested.**

* * *

 **Day 0**

 _Don't blame me, love made me crazy  
If it doesn't you ain't doing it right_

 _Oh Lord, save me, my drug is my baby  
I'll be using for the rest of my life_

They bring her to him in the middle of the night.

They all pile into a car, all of her people, and drive her to Vermont, to him.

Abby calls him on the way, tells him she's in a bad way, that they don't know what to do, that they think she needs him.

And he agrees without hesitation.

When they pull up, Fitz isn't sure what to expect, but he certainly doesn't expect Huck to get out of the car and reach back in to pick her up. She's wrapped in a blanket, and she looks so small, so fragile.

His beautiful, strong, fierce Livvie, just looks…broken.

Huck cradles her to his body as the others exit the car, unconsciously forming a protective group around them. They stoically step forward as a unit, meeting him at the bottom of the porch.

"My god," Fitz breathes, looking from Abby, to Quinn, to Charlie, and finally to Huck.

"She took something," Quinn says quietly, staring at Liv, "Not to—just a Xanax, or whatever's stronger than that. That's why she's like this. I don't think she'd slept in days, and she had the pills, somehow, so…we made her take one."

Fitz swallows, nodding as he steps closer, holding his arms out for her. Huck makes no move to let him take her, staring into his eyes, into his _soul_.

"Huck," Abby says softly, stepping forward and resting her palm on his back, "It's okay. He'll take care of her."

He stares for another moment, and then finally takes a half step forward. Fitz slips his arms beneath her, immediately hit with her scent, taken aback by how light she feels. She's not awake, but she's not completely asleep either, making a little sound of discontent as Huck lets go and steps away.

" _Shh, shh_ , it's me," Fitz whispers, tightening his grip on her.

Instantly, she turns her face into his neck, and it's what they've all been waiting for.

Her people, her family, all breathe a sigh of relief because _this_ is what she needs.

* * *

He carries her upstairs and into one of the furnished guest rooms, where he'd already turned down the covers in a fit of nervous energy. She'd been so _angry_ with him, and he'd been under no pretense that she'd want to sleep in his bed. Gently, he lays her down, tucking her under the warm blankets. For a moment, he thinks maybe she'll just settle down and sleep, but as soon as she senses that she might be alone her eyes blink open. He kneels next to the bed and tries to capture her gaze, reaching out to rest his hand on her hip.

"Hi," he murmurs, brushing hair away from her forehead, "You're in Vermont, in the house. But maybe you knew that."

Her stare is blank, focused on a point above his shoulder, blinking slowly.

"What's going on up here? Hmm?" he asks her softly, thumb stroking her temple, "Do you feel okay? Can you tell me what you need?"

Still, she's unresponsive, breathing slowly and evenly.

"No?" he says, smiling sadly, stroking her arm through the blankets, "Well, I'll try to guess, okay? But if I get it wrong, you'll have to forgive me."

Movement catches his attention, and he watches a tear slip from her eye, over the bridge of her nose.

"Hey," he whispers, leaning in closer, "It's okay. You don't need to talk if you aren't ready, I'm not going to force you. You're safe here, for as long as you need, I promise. You're safe with me."

Still, she cries, silently, tears falling one by one each time she blinks. Her face is void of emotion, save for the tears, and it makes his chest ache.

He smoothes his palm up and down her body, warm and soothing. "Sleep, Liv. Just sleep."

It takes a few minutes, but eventually her eyes flutter and close.

* * *

 **Day 1**

The next day, Fitz checks on her once every hour, to make sure that she's breathing, that she's still asleep. Around 3pm he warms some chicken broth, deciding he should try to get her to eat something.

Her bedroom is dim, and she's been buried under the covers all day, so the first thing he does is crack the blinds to let some light in. She grimaces, more aware than he's seen her since she arrived. He slowly walks over to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching out to stroke her arm.

"Liv. Can you try to wake up, Liv? I want you to have some broth."

She groans quietly, brow slightly furrowed.

"Olivia," he says, gently but firmly, "You need to eat something, okay? Sit up a little, and I'll help you."

He's quiet after that, still rubbing her arm, keeping the contact so that she knows he's not leaving. Her skin is unusually washed out, dull and lifeless, her lips look dry, and he knows she needs food, hydration. Just as he's wondering if he'll have to haul her upright, she stirs, eyes blinking open. Her gaze is still hollow as her eyes drift around, unfocused.

"There you go," he murmurs, quickly moving to help prop her up against the pillows, "Here, put your hands out."

Her hands rest uselessly in her lap as he nestles the mug between them, guiding her fingers into place, watching as they tighten weakly. He does most of the work to lift the broth to her lips, cupping his hands over hers, and she makes a little effort to tilt her head forward.

"It shouldn't be too hot, it's just warm. Little sips, okay?"

Her eyes close again at the first sip of rich, salty liquid, as if she hadn't realized how badly her body needed it. Her breaths come more quickly for a moment and then she settles again, taking another sip.

One of her hands unwraps and crawls around to rest on top of his, squeezing as best as she can.

"I'm here," he whispers, swallowing thickly, nudging in a little closer as their hands cradle the cup together, "I'm here. It's okay. You're doing great."

Her eyes are still closed but tears have started to slide down her cheeks again, and suddenly he understands.

He _knows_ what this is.

Her body's given up on her, caved under the stress. Her brain has temporarily stopped processing, overwhelmed with all the darkness, saturated with grief and sadness. He can see how frustrated she is, how scared she is, how badly she wants to be alright again.

"One thing at a time," Fitz murmurs, resting his forehead against her temple without thinking about it, "Today, drink the broth. Let's focus on that."

She nods, clearly able to comprehend, and it fills him with a little bit of hope.

Together, they guide the mug to her mouth again and again, until all of the broth is gone. She's _exhausted_ , and he helps her lie back down, watching the way her chest heaves softly with the effort.

 _When had she last eaten?_

"Okay, I know," he whispers, gently smoothing the hair away from her face, rubbing her back, "I think you'll feel a little better in a few minutes. _Shh_."

And thankfully, after a few minutes she does seem calmer, her breaths slow and even again. Thinking she's fallen asleep, he moves to get up, startled when she grips a handful of his shirt. Easing the material from her grip, he replaces it with his hand, clasping securely as he kneels next to the bed.

Liv's eyes flutter open, and she looks at him for the first time, knocking the breath from his chest.

"Hi," he breathes, squeezing her hand, reaching out to stroke her cheekbone.

She stares into his eyes for a few moments, and then she's asleep again.

* * *

"She's practically _starving_ ," he hisses, pacing back and forth in the living room, "How long has it been since she's eaten? How long was she in her apartment before someone went looking for her?"

"We didn't know!" Abby says defensively, "We had no idea! After Mellie fired her we just thought…we thought she was taking time. Honestly, I thought she was with you. We didn't know anything was wrong until no one could get in touch with her—"

"—which was _how long_?" he asks again, raking his fingers through his hair.

Abby sighs, and he can hear the tears in her voice, the regret. "A couple weeks? I don't know. Believe me, I've been blaming myself every damn day."

 _Abby loves her, too_ , he reminds himself, trying to soften.

"It's—I'm sorry," he breathes, sinking onto the couch, "You didn't know. None of us did."

"Do you think she'll be okay?" Abby asks softly.

He stares at the ceiling, shaking his head slowly. "I don't know. I've never seen her like this before. She's been depressed before, but, this is different."

"I know. When Huck and I finally went over there she was just…staring."

"I think, today—she's frustrated. She doesn't want to be like this…she doesn't like needing help. She did look at me."

"She made eye contact?" Abby says hopefully.

"Yeah. She's in there," Fitz sighs, moving to lie down on the couch, "Somewhere. Can you send some of her clothes? She needs clothes."

* * *

 **Day 2**

Now that he knows she hasn't been eating, he makes sure to bring her broth at regular intervals, every few hours. She's still not talking, barely looking at him, but she drinks without complaint, sipping slowly until each serving is gone. Her color is already better, eyes a little brighter each time he wakes her, although she still seems unbelievably tired.

Around dinnertime, he adds some of the tiny star noodles that Teddy likes, cooking them until they're soft. When he brings her a bowl instead of a cup, and picks up a spoon to feed her, she recoils.

 _So stubborn_.

"C'mon, Liv," he sighs, trying to look into her eyes, "Don't make this any harder than it already is."

Her eyes flick up to his and he almost smiles, because she doesn't look despondent, she looks pissed off.

"Oh, now," he teases, spooning up broth with a few stars, "Don't look at me like that. Here, c'mon. Maybe tomorrow you'll be able to do it yourself, but you won't get there unless you let me help you."

It pains her so much to let him feed her that her eyes close, face colored with embarrassment. But she opens her mouth and lets him do it, chewing carefully, seemingly swayed by the possibility that she might be able to get better, to get past this. She makes it through three quarters of the bowl before she makes a face, raising her hand a few inches, palm up to indicate that she can't.

"Okay," he murmurs, setting the bowl aside, "See how that sits. That was a good amount. How do you feel? A little better?"

She's staring at her lap, breathing slowly, and after a few seconds she nods once.

Fitz reaches for her hand, happy when her grip tightens around his. "Good. You're gonna be okay."

* * *

 **Day 3**

He decides he should try to get her into a warm bath.

But this particular task presents some new issues, some _seeing her naked_ issues. He's been helping her to the bathroom, but she's been going in by herself (barely), collapsing into his arms when she comes back out. She's getting stronger, but she's still shockingly weak, he supposes from a combination of depression and not eating.

And she's still not talking.

She seems to be the most alert in the morning, so he breaches the topic after she's had her first cup of broth.

"So," he says carefully, resting a hand on her knee through the blankets "I was thinking you might want to take a bath. Do you want to do that?"

Immediately, she makes eye contact.

"Okay," he says, nodding, giving her a soft smile, "Good. I'll be right back, okay?"

He's put her in the biggest guest room, the one with a separate whirlpool tub, and he starts to draw a bath. He turns on the towel warmer, the heater in the floor, anything he can think of to keep her comfortable. She's been so cold, shivering until he'd draped a third blanket over her bed, and he doesn't want her to be cold. He's never felt so protective of her, and it's both heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time.

When he comes back into the bedroom she's sitting on the edge of the bed, face buried in her hands.

He kneels in front of her, concerned, resting his palms on her knees. "Hey. What's going on? You don't have to take a bath, but I think it will help."

She shakes her head, letting her hands fall into her lap, looking at him. She's crying, face filled with anguish, and he finds that he can't help but be a little excited to see expression on her face.

"No? No, what?"

Her mouth opens, and then closes again, breath catching. She's trying to tell him, and she _can't_ , and it's _awful_. He watches carefully as her gaze rests on his chest, and then travels over her own body, hands coming up to clutch her shirt closer.

"Oh," he breathes, thumbs rubbing circles against her thighs, "Liv, I can hire a nurse, if you're more comfortable. I should have asked from the beginning, I'm sure I can go through the secret service, get someone that's been vetted, no one will know—"

She's shaking her head, brows furrowed, raising a finger to his lips.

"No? You don't want a nurse, okay, we won't do that. Then…"

Her gaze is burning into his now, begging him to understand. Slowly, she reaches for his hands, guiding them toward her body, placing them against her ribcage. As soon as he gently grips there, she turns her face away, cheeks coloring, lips trembling. She's noticeably thin, each rib easily felt as his fingers flex.

 _Oh._

His breath catches with the realization, mouth opening a little. "Oh…you want me to help you but…you're embarrassed. Because of the way you look."

She blinks rapidly as more tears fall, nodding, face still turned away.

"Olivia. Look at me," he orders her softly, deliberately running his hands down to her waist and back up again, "Please, look at me."

It takes her a few moments, but eventually she turns back, looking down into her lap and then finally up at him.

"How many times have we seen each other?"

She shakes her head.

 _Not like this._

"I've seen your body a thousand times. Ten thousand. Don't ever feel like you have to hide from me, okay?"

Her face crumples again, chest catching with a sob as she folds forward, forehead coming to rest against his. Fitz rests his lips there, feeling the warmth of her skin.

"I love you. No matter what. And you're beautiful, no matter what."

* * *

After her bath, he puts out two piles of clothes and lets her choose, only a little surprised when she chooses _his_ tee shirt and sweatshirt instead of her own things.

* * *

 **Day 5**

The fifth day, he thinks maybe he should get her out of bed.

"What do you think about sitting downstairs for a little while?" he asks, after she's finished breakfast (she's graduated from broth, to a bowl of thinned-out cream of wheat, made with milk and a splash of cream).

Olivia tips her head to the side in thought, weighing that suggestion.

"Different view. We could watch a movie or something. Plus, I want to change your sheets."

She thinks for a few seconds and then moves to get up, giving him a physical answer. He wraps his arm around her waist, steadying her as she stands, walking with her toward the hallway. The sun is out today, streaming in through all of the windows he'd so carefully selected. She's walking much better now, but when they arrive at the top of the stairs she stops, drawing in a long breath. He doesn't make her ask, scooping her up and carrying her the rest of the way.

"How about the couch? You can stretch out, I'll bring you some blankets," he says, setting her down on the leather sofa.

As he goes to leave she grabs his arm, stopping him.

When he turns back he follows her gaze to the beagle-mix curled up on the opposite end of the sofa, blinking at them.

"Oh," he smiles, kneeling next to her, "That's Archie, I guess you haven't met him yet. He's friendly, don't worry. Archie, c'mere. Come say hi, this is Olivia."

Archie hops down, trotting over obediently.

"Here," Fitz encourages, taking her hand and bringing it low enough for Archie to sniff, "It's okay."

Archie sniffs her hand thoroughly, and then nudges his head up underneath her palm, asking for pets. Fitz watches her face carefully as she slowly rubs Archie's fur, deciding that she doesn't really seem to _like_ him, but she doesn't seem to _not_ like him either.

He covers her with a couple of blankets. "I'll be back, don't go rollerblading or skiing or anything while I'm gone, okay?"

Liv and Archie stare blankly at him.

"Alright then," he mutters, heading upstairs.

* * *

 _It feels good to be out of bed._

 _Like she won't always be there, she won't always be this useless and broken._

 _Like there might be light at the end of this endlessly black tunnel._

 _She finds that her thoughts are either stupidly simple, or an overwhelming mess of chaos that she can't even begin to sift through._

 _The simple thoughts are easy: I'm hungry. I'm thirsty. I'm cold._

 _The complicated thoughts sweep over her without warning and knock the breath out of her._

 _That's when she cries. Because she can't process any of it, and she doesn't understand how she ever will._

 _Not being able to talk is starting to scare her, too. She supposes her brain is just too exhausted, and that's why the words won't come out._

 _She can't imagine being anywhere else, like this, so vulnerable, unable to even take care of herself. The only person she trusts enough, the only person she wants, is Fitz, and she's so grateful for him._

 _Damn. Now she's crying._

 _She's pulled from her thoughts by Fitz's dog._

 _Archie crawls into her lap and curls up, burying his little face in her side. He's warm, and she raises a hand to stroke him, surprised by the way it eases the tightness in her chest._

* * *

 **Day 8**

On her eighth day in Vermont, she scares the shit out of him.

It's dark, the middle of the night, and something makes him stir, eyes blinking open. He jumps and startles, heart pounding, because she's standing silently next to his bed in the dark.

"Holy shit. Wha—"

His eyes adjust enough to see that she's crying, hands clenching and unclenching at her sides, and he sits up immediately, reaching for her.

"Hey, hey. What, Liv? What?"

She shakes her head, stepping into him as she takes big, gasping breaths.

"Okay. Okay," he murmurs, instinctively guiding her into his lap, letting her curl into his arms.

As soon as his arms close around her, she buries her face in his neck and sobs, body shaking. He's still blinking sleep from his eyes, trying to wrap his brain around the fact that she's breaking down. Pulling in a deep breath, he gathers himself and holds her tighter, starting to rub circles over her back.

"It's okay, Livvie," he whispers, rocking her.

That's when he hears it.

He has to bend even closer, but he realizes that she's saying something through her tears.

" _I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…_ "

It's the first time she's spoken, and after aching to hear her voice he finds himself shushing her, desperately hoping that she'll stop.

* * *

 **A/N: Things need to get worse before they can get better. Stay tuned for Part II! Let me know what you thought about Part I!**


	64. Lazarus: II

_A/N: This chapter has a fairly vivid description of a panic attack. If you think this might be triggering for you, please skip that section, or this chapter in its entirety._

* * *

 **Day 9**

He's not sure how long she cries, or when they fall asleep, but he knows they must have because he wakes up to feather light touches on his face.

She has a habit of tracing his features sometimes, while he's asleep, or while they're drifting through post-orgasmic bliss; it's just something she's always done, so he doesn't have to open his eyes to know what the feeling is.

His eyes drift open to find her just inches away, sharing his pillow. Her eyes are moving over his face the same way that her fingers are, taking her time, taking him in. She hasn't really touched him since she's been here, and even these light touches feel good, soothing. Gently stroking his cheek with the back of her hand, she meets his eyes.

"Hi," she whispers, voice raspy from sleep and crying.

His eyes instantly fill with tears. "Hi."

* * *

 **Day 12**

The days since she came to him in the night have been her darkest yet, and it's…difficult.

She cries constantly.

Sometimes she wants him to hold her, gripping his shirt, burrowing into him so desperately that he wonders if she's trying to crawl beneath his skin.

Sometimes she won't even look at him, curled in on herself in his bed, completely closed off. Once, he tries to spoon up behind her, and she pushes him away so violently, with strength he hadn't even realized she'd regained; after that he leaves her be, he doesn't push.

She stops eating again, and it breaks his heart to see her take so many steps back.

* * *

Late in the afternoon on the third day she hasn't eaten anything, Fitz makes a bowl of oatmeal and carries it upstairs, determined to get a few bites in her. When he opens the door she's sitting up in bed, staring down into her lap.

"Hey," he says carefully, coming to sit on the bed with her, "Made you some oatmeal. Extra cinnamon, the way you like it."

She's unresponsive, she doesn't even look up at him.

"C'mon, Liv. You need to eat a few bites," Fitz coaxes, trying to place the bowl between her hands.

The warmth of the bowl makes her recoil, and she pushes it away slowly, back into his hands. She hasn't really been combative so far, and he struggles to stay compassionate in the face of her blatant refusal to accept his help. He's trying so hard to help her, and being pushed away _hurts_.

"No," he sighs, lifting it away from her grasp and then putting it back on her lap, "I'm not going to fight with you. You need to eat, period."

This time, she picks up the bowl and forcefully places it back on the bed, looking away from him like a petulant child.

"Fine," he says flippantly, losing his patience, "You want to act like a kid? I'll treat you like one."

He spoons up some oatmeal and tries to feed it to her, nudging it against her lips. This pisses her off to no end, and she shoves the spoon away, flicking oatmeal onto the comforter, onto his hand.

"Liv, _stop_ ," he pleads, struggling with her for a moment, "You're being impossible, it's _food_. You need—"

She grabs the bowl from him and hurls it off the bed. The ceramic shatters across the hardwood floor, oatmeal splattering in all directions.

It happens so fast that he's in shock for a second, staring at the mess, spoon still in hand.

When he looks over at her she's breathing quickly, staring back at him angrily.

"Are you _fucking_ kidding me?" he breathes, looking at her incredulously.

She doesn't even blink, looking at him defiantly.

He stands up, throwing her spoon down and stalking away. "Fine. Starve. I don't care."

* * *

They're apart for hours after that.

Fitz sulks on the couch downstairs, absently flipping through channels, wondering every five seconds if he ought to go back up and check on her.

 _She's impossible._

 _How is he supposed to help her if she won't let him?_

 _This will never work if she doesn't put in some effort._

Archie sits up on the couch next to him, blinking solemnly.

"What?" Fitz asks, stroking his head, "Don't judge me. She pushed me away, what am I supposed to do?"

Archie tips his head to the side.

"I'm not going up there. If she wants to talk, she can come down here."

Whining a little, Archie lays down and puts his paws on Fitz's thigh, suddenly looking up at the ceiling.

The wood floor above them is creaking, signaling that Liv's gotten out of bed, and they listen to her slow progression from the bedroom, down the hall, to the stairs. He doesn't turn to look at her as she comes downstairs, picking up the remote again, deliberately ignoring her. She crosses into the living room and silently sits down on the couch with him.

He can feel her gaze but he doesn't look, still focused on the television without really watching it, letting her know that he can be angry too. But when she slides in close, nudging his arm out of the way so that she can curl up against his side, he can't push her away. She lays her head on his chest and he exhales, wrapping his arm around her back.

" _I'm sorry_."

Her apology is so soft that he almost misses it.

Nuzzling his lips into her hair, he turns the television off, closing his eyes. He holds her for a minute, slowly rubbing her arm and her back, anger melting away.

"I'm trying to help you."

"I know," she whispers, pressing even harder into his chest, "I know that."

Her voice is soft from disuse, shaky and unsure, like a fawn on new legs.

"Just…don't give—" her breath catches when she tries to speak again, and he can feel her tears through his shirt now.

"No," he murmurs, "I'm in this. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. But you have to try to let me help you, Liv."

She lets out a long breath, relieved that she hasn't pushed him away, and they sit in silence for a little while.

"I—I—" she tries, falling quiet after she can't quite get her thought out.

"It's okay," he soothes, "Take your time. Try again."

"I—I didn't…know that would happen," she says, unconsciously fingering the soft material of his shirt.

"You didn't know what would happen?"

"The bowl."

"Oh. You didn't know you were going to throw the bowl?"

"No," she murmurs, breathing more evenly, "I didn't mean to. I got so… _angry_."

Fitz sighs, pressing harder as he runs his hand over her back, massaging a little. "I think your mood is a little…unpredictable right now. It's not your fault, it's your body trying to heal."

She's crying again, gripping handfuls of his shirt. "I'm scared."

He turns and pulls her into a hug, encouraging her into his lap. "I know. But you're not alone, okay?"

* * *

 **Day 15**

 _ **Mental breakdown – noun; an acute, time-limited mental disorder**_ _ **that manifests primarily as severe**_ _ **stress**_ _ **-induced**_ _ **depression**_ _ **,**_ _ **anxiety**_ _ **, or**_ _ **dissociation**_ _ **in a previously functional individual, to the extent that they are no longer able to function on a day-to-day basis until the disorder is resolved.**_

He spends hours online, researching depression and breakdowns.

 _Feelings of hopelessness or pessimism, persistently sad or anxious…_

The amount of information is dizzying, overwhelming.

 _Decreased energy or fatigue, changes in appetite and/or weight, irritability…_

A lot of the information focuses on diagnosis, but he's pretty convinced that she's clinically depressed, he doesn't need to be a psychiatrist to figure that out.

 _Risk factors include major life changes, trauma, stress…_

More than anything, he wants to help her feel better but he's not sure what the answer is.

 _Antidepressants typically take 2-4 weeks to work…often the first symptoms to improve are sleep, appetite, and concentration…_

Fitz closes the tab and scrubs his hands over his face, taking a deep breath, feeling like he's probably in way over his head.

"What's wrong?"

His head snaps up at the sound of her voice. She's standing in the doorway of his office, looking like she's not sure if she should be there, hands at her sides.

"Nothing," he breathes, shaking his head, "You're up. That's great, Liv."

She looks like she's not convinced that it's great, taking a few steps into the room, looking around. "I haven't been in here."

"No, you haven't," he smiles, watching her trace a hand over the smooth, dark cherry wood bookshelves, "Do you like it?"

"Sure," she answers, shrugging a little, working her way across the room to him.

He watches curiously as she walks around the desk, pauses in front of him, and then moves to sit on his lap. Surprised, he opens his arms.

"Hey, c'mere," he murmurs, gathering her up, letting her snuggle into his neck, "Something happen?"

"No," she whispers, face hidden, breathing him in, "Just…wanted you."

He melts at her confession, feeling incredibly protective of her.

"Oh. Okay," he says softly, warmth spreading through his chest, "Well, you have me. Any time you want."

She hums quietly, and even that little sound feels like progress.

"I think I want…some french fries."

He snorts with laughter. "Really?"

"I think so," she repeats, sounding slightly confused, "I saw a commercial and…they looked good."

"Well then, let's get you some fries."

* * *

Later that afternoon, after they've had some french fries (a _lot_ of french fries), he finds Liv outside.

 _Outside_ , for the first time in two weeks.

She's dragged a chair into the sunlight, and she's sitting with her face tipped up, eyes closed, arms draped over the sides. It's beautiful to see, and he stares at her for a long time, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest.

Eventually, Archie trots over and whines, taking advantage of the fact that he's standing near the back door. Fitz slides the door open and lets him out, watching as he happily takes off across the property, stopping before he goes too far.

Olivia opens her eyes, looking around for him.

"It's nice out," he smiles, watching Archie sniff his way back to them.

She hums, sitting up. "The sun feels good."

Archie finds a ball in the bushes and runs over, surprising Fitz by dropping it at Liv's feet instead of his, looking up at her expectantly.

She stares at him, and then at Fitz, looking confused.

"He wants you to throw it," he chuckles, coming closer, "He wants to play."

"Oh," she breathes, bending down to pick up the ball, making a face because it's wet with slobber.

She tosses it several feet away and Archie returns it in seconds, bringing it to Fitz this time.

"Not good enough, bud?" Fitz laughs, picking up the ball, "He likes to really run for it."

Fitz winds up and pitches it across the yard, watching as it arcs up and away from them. Archie takes off running, bounding joyfully. He brings the ball back, anxious to continue his favorite game, and Fitz indulges him, throwing the ball over and over. Liv watches passively, content to enjoy the sun. On one return, Archie stops in the middle of the yard instead, dropping the ball and letting out a short bark.

Fitz grins, nudging her. "Watch this."

He jogs over and starts to tease Archie, darting back and forth, chasing him around, letting the dog chase him. Archie barks happily, running in circles, crouching playfully with his butt up in the air. Fitz laughs heartily, creeping toward him, pretending he's on the attack, and then darting after Archie when he runs away.

Fitz tires _far_ before Archie does, and eventually he crouches down and lets the dog run into his arms, laughing as he topples into the grass. He ends up on his back, bombarded with a slobbery tongue and a wet nose in his face.

"Yes…yes, buddy, okay," he laughs, petting him, "I know, I love you, too. I love you, too."

Between nuzzles and licks, he glances over at Liv and all of the breath rushes from his chest.

She's smiling.

* * *

 **Day 16**

"I—I—don't kn—know why I did that," she sobs, arms crossed over her stomach, convulsing with the force of it.

Fitz sits helplessly beside her in bed, rubbing circles over her back. It's late, almost two in the morning, and she's been crying for nearly half an hour.

"I th—thought…those people. H—how could I do that? They d—didn't have to die."

"Liv," he murmurs, brows furrowed.

"I turned in—into him. I was _worse_ than him. I was h-him, I was my father."

He doesn't move to reassure her, not yet, letting her get the feelings out. She hasn't started to process _any_ of this yet, and he knows that she needs to. As painful as it is, he lets her spiral into a panic attack, carefully watching her breathing pattern.

"I tried so hard. I w—wanted to—I wanted to be better. _I wasn't_. _I failed._ "

Whatever thoughts are swirling through her brain must make perfect sense to her, but he's barely following what she's saying, more focused on her body language.

"Why are you helping me?" she sobs, trying to move away from his touch.

"Don't," he says softly, shaking his head, knowing there's really nothing he can say.

"I don't deserve you," she gasps, starting to have trouble getting enough air.

As soon as he sees her start to hyperventilate, he uses his strength to gently pull her into his arms, not giving her a choice.

 _Enough_.

"Okay. Okay, _shh_. Slow down. _Easy_. Slow down, breathe with me, okay? _Shh_."

She fights him for a second and then gives in, curling up in his lap, hands clenched, gasping for air.

"Just like we always do, breathe with me. You know how to do it. Close your eyes," he murmurs, spreading his hand across the center of her back to feel her breaths, rocking her a little.

One step forward, three steps back.

* * *

 _Panic attacks feel like torture._

 _It feels like someone's holding her underwater, pushing on her chest over and over, squeezing everything out of her._

 _The panic rises inside of her like a wave, creeping through her belly and chest, up through her cheeks, into her head where it makes her scalp prickle._

 _Emotion spills out of her unchecked, tears, and anguish, and unbearable sadness._

 _It makes her whole body shake, it makes her heart pound, it makes her feel sick, it makes her want to crawl out of her own skin._

 _It chokes her until she can't breathe, until she literally_ _ **cannot**_ _breathe._

 _But then, he's there._

 _He's there to make it stop._

 _Just when she can't stand it for one more second, he's there to press his body against hers and make it stop._

 _He's warm, and steady, and safe._

 _He gets in her ear, drowning out the voices so that all she can hear is him, and what he's telling her to do. He gives her something to focus on, telling her to concentrate on the way his chest rises and falls, to match his breaths._

 _It's always hard at first, to focus on him, she has to fight_ _ **hard**_ _to push the panic away._

 _She has to_ _ **fight**_ _for it._

 _But, when she finally feels herself winning…_ _ **oh**_ _…it's heaven. The air comes, and she can feel her lungs filling again. Everything slows down, and she can feel his arms around her, his hand rubbing her back, his lips on her forehead._

 _For a little while, he's everything._

* * *

 **Day 17**

They sleep in the next morning, entwined underneath the comforter.

She's still curled into his arms when he finally wakes up, and he twists around to glance at the clock.

 _Nearly ten._

Fitz sighs, looking down at her, wondering what today will bring. After a night like that, she'll need the day to recover. She might refuse to eat, and she almost certainly won't get out of bed. Luckily, it's a Saturday, so he won't have to cancel anything if she needs him to stay with her. He tries to picture the contents of the refrigerator, wondering what they have that she might want to eat.

As he's running through his mental 'post-panic attack survival guide', she stirs. Stretching, she rolls and buries her face in his neck, taking a deep breath.

"Morning," he murmurs, hugging her.

She hums quietly, slipping her hand under his shirt, wrapping her arm around his back. "Hi."

These are the only moments that almost feel normal, when they're waking up together, the way they have a hundred times before.

"How're you feeling?" he asks carefully, waiting for her to clam up and go silent.

Instead, Liv takes another deep breath and yawns. "Tired. _Hungry_."

"You're hungry?" he repeats, surprised.

"Yeah," she yawns, rolling onto her back.

"Well, then let's have some breakfast," he offers, a little too enthusiastically, "What are you in the mood for?"

"Something with a lot of carbs," she sighs, smiling a little when he sits up excitedly, "Maybe pancakes. Or waffles."

He stares at her, in shock that she's not incoherent, incapacitated. "We can do pancakes. I can do pancakes."

 _Is this progress? Is she making progress?_

Slowly, she sits up and reaches for him, cradling his face between her palms. He instantly falls silent, watching her eyes move over his face, breath catching at the tenderness in her touch. When her eyes meet his, they're glassy, full of tears.

"Thank you, for last night," she whispers, "For being _you_."

"Liv…"

Tucking her face into his neck, she hugs him, arms squeezing tightly. He's still so surprised that he doesn't hug her back right away, but after a moment he wraps her up, closing his eyes. She presses a kiss behind his ear and then turns away, climbing out of bed.

"I'm going to shower," she mumbles, walking to the bathroom without looking back.

* * *

 **Day 25**

"Umm…hi?" he says with amusement, setting his bags down.

Fitz comes back from the grocery store to find her bent over the kitchen sink, washing her hair.

"Hi," she greets nonchalantly, upside down, voice slightly muffled, "Did they have those chips?"

He tips his head, watching her curiously. "They did…can I ask what you're doing?"

"Washing my hair," she scoffs, as if it's obvious.

"Yes, I can see that," he smiles, leaning on the counter, "But, why are you doing it here?"

"You've seen me do this before."

"No, I haven't," he chuckles, following the careful movement of her fingers as she detangles, "I mean, I've seen you wash your hair, but not in the kitchen sink."

"Oh," she breathes distractedly, focused on the task at hand, "When I put in a deep conditioner I wash it in the sink. It has to sit for about half an hour, too long to do in the shower."

"Okay then," he smiles, moving to start putting the groceries away, "How was this morning?"

After much debate, he'd finally convinced her to try therapy. As much as she hadn't wanted to agree, she _could_ agree with him on the fact that she'd only gone from being a low-functioning, severely depressed person, to a high-functioning, severely depressed person; and that wasn't the way she wanted to live anymore. They'd been able to find someone willing to come to the house, and sign a non-disclosure agreement, but so far it's been a bit of a struggle.

Olivia sighs, tucking her hair beneath a shower cap, frowning. "I didn't say anything today."

"That's okay," he says immediately, always nervous that she's going to refuse the therapist's help, "It's okay to not talk sometimes, as long as you're trying."

"I am. I _feel_ like I'm trying. But it's hard," she murmurs, absently pushing the hair supplies on the counter around, organizing and re-organizing, "I just…I don't want to go through anything like that again. And if this will help…I want to try."

He closes the refrigerator and comes over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing his lips to her forehead. "I'm so proud of you. Always."

"Thank you," she whispers, closing her eyes.

"Alright, lunch," he says after a moment, stepping back, "How's the appetite today? Scale of one to ten. Are we going for volume or density?"

Calories are non-negotiable at this point, but she's only hungry enough for a healthier meal about half the time.

She makes a face. "Umm…I'm a four today, I think."

"No problem," he says, digging around for a moment and coming up with a bag of her favorite potato chips.

He tosses them to her and she smiles, opening the bag, popping a chip into her mouth.

* * *

"C'mon, Liv, please?"

Olivia holds up the asparagus, looking at it skeptically. "It's really green."

He's made salmon, roasted potatoes, and asparagus for dinner.

"It's asparagus. Asparagus is green," he deadpans, "You haven't eaten a vegetable in weeks."

"Potatoes are vegetables."

Fitz sighs, spearing a bite of salmon. "I'd love to see you eat something green, I really would."

"How about broccoli? Maybe with some cheese sauce on it?" she suggests, in complete seriousness, "Who eats plain asparagus? No one. Archie, c'mere."

Archie trots in from the living room, sitting next to her obediently.

"I bet even he doesn't want this. Do you want this?"

She offers him the asparagus and he gives it a sniff, then immediately recoils as if he's terrified and runs back into the living room.

His response is so dramatic that it makes her _laugh_.

Without even thinking about it, she laughs and laughs, bracing a hand against her forehead.

" _See_? He's actually pretty cute, Fitz—what's wrong?"

Fitz is staring at her with tears in his eyes, mouth slightly open. "I just…I haven't seen you laugh in a really long time."

"Oh," she breathes, realizing, "I—I didn't even think about it."

"How does it feel?"

Liv takes a second to think about it, realizing that her whole body is buzzing happily.

"It feels…great."

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you so much for all of your reviews on part I! I was blown away. So, yeah...there's gonna be a part III lol. So, again, stay tuned! And let me know what you thought of this one!**


	65. The First Thanksgiving

_**A/N: Happy Thanksgiving from The Firsts!**_

* * *

 _ **Micah – 5.5, Ruby – 1.5**_

" _Gobble gobble turkey talk, turkeys all around. Standing up and sitting down, turkeys on the ground!_ "

Fitz smiles at Micah's song, glancing over to where he's coloring at the kitchen table.

"That's some good singing, bud. Did you write that one?"

"No, we sang it umm, at school! Dad, is that a turkey?"

"Yup," Fitz nods, looking up from the thermometer, "He's almost done, one more hour I think."

"We're gonna eat him?"

"We sure are."

"Oh. Huck is gonna eat him? And Bee? And Poppy?"

"Well, anyone who wants some turkey can have some, there will be lots," Fitz explains, stirring the cranberry sauce.

Olivia breezes into the kitchen carrying Ruby. "Okay, here we are, we're ready. I'll help, but only if you have something I can stir, don't ask me to carve anything."

"Well, look at my girls, so pretty," Fitz smiles, leaning in to kiss Ruby's cheek, "You're so sparkly, baby girl, I like this shirt."

"She is _very_ into it," Liv sighs, straightening the teal blue sweater, "Mimi will be so happy you're wearing it!"

"Mo? Mo? Co-co?" Ruby points, leaning out of Liv's arms.

"Of course, bug, you can color too, here we go."

"Mommy, _no_ ," Micah whines, throwing his head back dramatically.

"Micah, remember what we talked about?" Liv reminds him, strapping Ruby into her booster seat, "You need to share. She can color with the ones that are already broken, you don't have to give her your new ones. Can you help me? Pick some colors and give them to Ruby, please."

Ruby babbles happily, pulling anything she can reach toward herself. "Mo-mo, co-co. Cayon? Mommy? Meow. Meow."

"That's right, there's a kitty in this coloring book, _meow_. Micah? C'mon, bud. Thank you, that's so kind."

Micah sighs, fishing through his bin of crayons reluctantly, putting together a small pile for his little sister.

"Don't eat the crayons, baby. Here, make the colors go right here," she says, pointing to a piece of paper, helping her for a minute.

Fitz peeks into one of the crock pots, stirring the mashed potatoes inside. "I can't believe she's coloring already. I mean, _scribbling_ is more the word, but still."

"I know, she does seem to get the idea of it, doesn't she? Having a big brother certainly helps."

"Livvie, I need your expert stirring skills."

Liv shuffles back over reluctantly, looking less than enthused. "Why did we decide to do this again?"

"Because," he says quietly, looping his arms around her waist, "We're finally on really good terms with your dad, and with everyone else in our lives. And we wanted the kids to have some nice holiday memories."

"Right," she sighs, running her hands over him, momentarily distracted by how handsome he looks, "Mmm, I like this sweater on you. And you smell good—"

"—hey, control yourself woman. We have a dinner to get on the table," he says sternly, moving her away from him.

She scowls and turns to the stove, poking at the cranberry sauce. "Fine. What am I supposed to be doing, here?"

"Just babysit it. Don't let it stick, keep stirring it around," Fitz instructs, popping a tube of rolls.

"Yes, chef, I can do that, chef," she salutes, bumping her hip against his.

He leans in and smacks a kiss against her cheek, grinning happily.

* * *

"Fitz, this looks _wonderful_ ," Sandra gasps, eyeing all of the food scattered around the kitchen, sniffing the air, "I wish you would've let me help, I can't believe you did all this."

"Hey, I stirred the cranberry sauce," Liv pipes up from the table, where she's retreated to color with the kids.

"Oh, yes, honey, the cranberry sauce looks lovely."

Eli stops in the doorway balancing two pies. "Where do these go?"

Fitz looks between those two, and the apple pie that Sandra's holding. "How many pies did you bring?"

"Just three," Sandra says, looking as though three might not be enough, "He talked me out of a fourth. I _told_ you we needed four!"

"No," Fitz laughs, stepping forward to take the pie she's holding, "We do _not_ need four pies, three is plenty. I thought you were bringing _one_ , to be honest."

"Mi-mi-mi-mi-mi," Ruby chants, waving her crayon in Sandra's direction.

"What do you have there, my little sweetie?" she coos, coming over to the table.

"So I'll just hold these then, that's fine," Eli nods, leaning against the doorframe.

Liv giggles, standing up. "Here, Dad, you can put them in here."

* * *

Surprisingly, things don't get chaotic until dessert.

Ruby's been increasingly cranky since dinner, bouncing from activity to activity, person to person, not sure where to look. When Olivia volunteers to make coffee and disappears, the toddler melts down a little, whining and whimpering.

" _Mommy_. Mommy up."

"Oh Mommy's coming back," Abby coos, rubbing her back, "You're okay. Here, do you want your Daddy?"

"No, no, no."

"I doubt it," Fitz interjects, coming over to scoop her up anyway, "Hi, sweet pea. When she decides she wants Mommy it's all over, _and_ she's teething again right now."

Olivia comes back with a tray of coffee mugs, and Ruby squirms to get down, immediately toddling over to hang on her legs.

"Hi, bug, just a minute," she says absently, passing empty mugs across the table, walking around to collect a few stray forks.

"Livvie, did you find that new container? I just ground it this morning," Fitz asks, calling over the various conversations.

She nods, smiling and winking at him before she turns to go back into the kitchen.

" _Mommy_."

"Got it!" Micah yells, smacking his hand over the cards on the table, "Poppy, you gotta be _fast_."

They're playing a card game, matching pictures coupled with speed.

Eli chuckles, glancing at Sandra. "Your Poppy's days of being fast are over, I'm afraid. You're too good at this!"

Meanwhile, Ruby whines all the way into the kitchen and back out again, following Liv around pitifully.

"It's hot, bug, not right now. Dad, do you want some coffee?"

"How do you guys not just pick her up?" Marcus asks Fitz, pointing to Ruby, "I'm dying and she's not even mine."

"Because she's eighteen months old and fifty percent of her communication is whining," Fitz laughs, leaning in to Olivia when she comes over to pour coffee for them, "Geez, if we indulged her every single time—"

"—she's fine," Liv adds, glancing down at Ruby, "She just wants to sit in my lap and I can't do that right now. She'd be in my arms all day long if I let her, and then I'd never get anything done. After two of them you learn the difference between 'I'm not getting my way', and 'I'm actually sad'."

Marcus shakes his head, sighing. "Parenting seems hard."

They both laugh, glancing at each other knowingly.

This time, when Olivia disappears back into the kitchen, Ruby stops in the middle of the dining room and whimpers.

"C'mere, Ruby," Fitz says, holding out his hand, "We're gonna have some pie!"

She looks over at him, at the crowd of people sitting at the table, and starts to cry. Her little eyes squeeze closed and she wails sadly, tears slipping down her cheeks.

"Uh oh," Fitz murmurs, leaning over to Marcus, "Now, _this_ would be a time when—"

But Liv has already re-appeared, drying her hands on a towel and walking straight to Ruby, who raises her arms. She scoops the toddler up and gives her a hug.

"Oh my goodness, okay love, I didn't leave you, I promise. No need to be dramatic. Okay, okay, _shh_ , _shh_. What's going on, is this a little overwhelming? Hmm? Is it too many people?" she murmurs, rubbing Ruby's back, holding her close.

Ruby quiets immediately, turning back to the group, suddenly eyeing everyone apprehensively.

Liv kisses her cheek, swaying a little. "It's too early for you to be tired. Do you want to take a little break with Mommy? Yeah?"

* * *

They retreat into the living room where it's quieter, and Liv encourages her to pick out some books.

"Let's read a book, and then we'll go have some pie. Go ahead, pick some and bring them to Mommy."

Ruby toddles back and forth a few times, picking books and handing them to Liv.

"Okay, do you think that's enough books? C'mere, lets read one."

Ruby climbs on to the couch and crawls into her lap, but instead of sitting back to read, she nuzzles in and asks to nurse.

"Mek? Mek?" she asks, patting Liv's chest.

"Oh, remember milk is only for night-night. It's not time for night-night yet," Liv reminds her softly, picking up one of the books she's brought over.

They're still nursing in the morning and at night, but they're in the process of stopping midday, trying to encourage Ruby to eat and enjoy as much solid food as possible. She's proven to be a bit of a picky eater, and Liv doesn't struggle at all to offer her food during the day instead of milk, knowing it's a necessary transition. But comfort nursing is harder. It's harder to say no when she knows her little girl just wants to be close, but it happens to be outside of their normal nursing time.

Ruby whimpers, squeezing her fists in the sign for 'milk', flopping forward against her chest. " _Mommy_."

"I know you're not hungry, you're full of turkey, you little turkey. It's not time yet, bug. Let's read this one with the froggies," she tries, cuddling Ruby in her lap.

Ruby pushes the book away, pulling on the collar of her shirt, still whimpering and whining. Her heart squeezes painfully, instinct immediately taking over and urging her to let Ruby nurse. The feeling is suddenly so powerful that she can't ignore it, and she doesn't want to.

"Okay," she murmurs, scooping her daughter up, "Just for a couple minutes, okay, bug?"

They head upstairs to Ruby's room, settling into her rocking chair. Liv tries once more to offer her a book, just some quiet time, but Ruby's already pulling on her shirt again. Her whimpering stops as soon as Liv pulls her shirt up, and she lays down contentedly.

"Mommy put a real bra on today, hang on," she smiles, sliding one strap down and folding the cup of her bra, "Okay, there you go. C'mere, baby."

Ruby latches on, letting herself be cuddled, patting and pulling at the breast.

"Gentle," Liv reminds her, tugging her shirt down a little so Ruby can grab it, "If you're not gentle we have to try again later."

Nursing Ruby into toddlerhood has been a totally different experience, one that has required some new tricks and a little more rule enforcement. She's wiggly and enthusiastic, sometimes too rough in a way that Micah never was, and Liv's had to do some self-preservation. Differences aside, they both still love nursing, and she has no intention of stopping before they're both ready.

"That's better, good girl," she murmurs, praising the toddler when she gentles her hands, "You have to be soft, Mommy's body has been through a lot. Be so soft to the poor boobies."

"Boo-bee," Ruby chirps, talking around her nipple.

Liv rolls her eyes, holding in a laugh, not sure whether it's hilarious or embarrassing that one of the words her toddler has picked up is "booby".

"Did you have a nice day, so far?" she asks softly, stroking Ruby's chunky thigh with her thumb, "With all of our friends? I know you like everyone. Especially Mimi and Poppy. Did you just need to check in with Mommy?"

Ruby hums, kicking her feet.

"Yeah, I think you just needed a little break."

They nurse for a few minutes, and then Ruby sits up, waving her hands.

"All done? Okay," Liv smiles, putting herself back together.

"Aw-dun."

"Yup, all done."

"More? Nigh-nigh, more?"

"Yes, you can have more when we go night-night, okay? I'm not gonna take it away from you, I promise."

"Daddy?"

"Where's Daddy? Should we go see Daddy?"

"No, no, no."

"No? Okay, well we can't stay up here for too much longer, we have to go see our friends. Should we read about the animals, and then go back downstairs?"

"Meow. Meow. Meow."

"That's right, good job, the kitty says meow. Hey, what does the cow say?"

"Mooooo."

Olivia smiles at the way her little lips purse when she exaggerates the sound.

"How about, the ducky? What does the ducky say?"

"Kack, kack."

Ruby wiggles happily, always content to show off her skills.

"Hey, how about this one? What does a turkey say?"

Ruby pauses, staring at the picture.

"I don't think we've done this one before, but it's very appropriate. The turkey says, gobble gobble!"

Ruby thinks long and hard, listening intently each time Liv repeats the sound. Eventually she takes a breath and leans forward, nearly pressing her nose to the picture.

" _Gobba gobba!_ "


	66. The First Baby Blues

_**A/N: This happened because today I was like, 'oh let me just jot this idea down so I don't forget'. And it turned into its own one-shot. Oops.**_

* * *

 _ **Micah – 3 years old, Ruby – 9 days old**_

"Where's Mommy?" Micah asks, hopping up their first set of front steps.

Fitz holds his hand, lifting him up each step as he jumps. "Mommy's home. She stayed here while we went to the park so she could have her special doctor's appointment. Hey, do you know whose car I see?"

"Who?" he asks, eyes wide as he looks toward their driveway.

It's packed with cars, both secret service and personal, as usual, but there's one extra.

"I see Bee's car," Fitz says excitedly, pointing, "I think she's here, do you want to go see?"

"Yeah!" Micah yells, running up the lawn toward the house, "Beeeee!"

Abby opens their front door, obviously having heard the commotion. "Hey, squirt! How's it going?"

"Umm, good. Bee, can you _play?!_ "

"You know what, as a matter of fact," Abby says, kneeling down to help Micah with his coat, "I was kind of bored today, so I came over because I _thought_ maybe you'd play with me."

"I can play with you, Bee," Micah nods seriously, fidgeting excitedly, "Can we play Play-doh?"

"I think that's an _awesome_ idea."

She stands up as Micah takes off toward the kitchen to pull out his supplies.

"This is a nice surprise," Fitz smiles, pulling her into a warm hug, "When did you get here?"

"I texted Liv to see if it would be helpful for me to hang out with the little dude this afternoon, and she couldn't respond fast enough," Abby laughs, rolling up her sleeves.

"Is the lactation consultant still here?" Fitz asks, glancing around.

"No, she left about five minutes ago. Liv seems…tired," Abby says carefully, "Is she having a tough day? I didn't want to ask too many questions, I just helped her get settled and left her alone."

Fitz sighs, walking with her. "You know, just normal 'new baby' stuff. She's got some baby blues, I think, and breastfeeding has been a little tougher on her this time. And we haven't been sleeping, obviously."

They stop near the stairs, listening to the clatter of various Play-doh molds and cookie cutters. "Okay, well, I've got Micah, okay? Go upstairs, sleep, whatever you guys need to do. I'll hang out for the rest of the day, figure out some dinner, we're good."

"You are _amazing_ ," Fitz chuckles, happy to accept her help, hugging her again, "Let us know if you need anything."

"Okay, I won't," she calls, heading to the kitchen.

* * *

Liv and Ruby are nursing when he gently pushes their bedroom door open. It's dark and quiet, and he can tell she's been diffusing oils because it smells like lavender.

"Hey," he greets softly, walking over to the rocking chair, "How are my girls?"

"We're fine," she sniffles, wiping tears from her cheeks.

"Yeah?" he murmurs, kneeling down next to her, gently rubbing her arm, "What did the lactation consultant say? Did she know why it's hurting so much?"

She's clearly frustrated, crying openly, struggling to get words out through her tears. "Umm…she said that her latch looks perfect. And she doesn't have a tongue tie, or a lip tie."

"Okay, that's good news," he says softly, brushing some tears away with his thumb.

She sniffs again, tenderly stroking Ruby's hair. "She thinks she just has a really strong suck. She's rough, and that's why it's hurting so much. She said if I push through it, it will get better with time."

"That's not really the answer you wanted though," Fitz murmurs sympathetically.

Her chin trembles and she shakes her head, kissing Ruby hand. "I feel _terrible_. What kind of mom actually _wants_ to be told that there's a problem? I feel like a bad mom."

He stands up to press his lips against her temple, heart breaking. "Livvie, _no_. That could absolutely not be any further from the truth. Sweetheart, you're in pain, and you wanted to be able to _do_ something about it. Being told you have to wait it out is awful."

She's still crying, chest hiccupping every so often. "She's eating really well, she's gaining weight. It's just me, I'm being selfish because it hurts. The consultant left me some shields to use, but they'd be for my own comfort. I don't even want to try them, because I don't want her to get confused."

Fitz's brain is firing on all cylinders, wanting to _help_ , wanting to _fix_ , wanting to make her feel _better_.

But he can't help with this.

Instead he takes a deep breath, and sits down beside her chair.

"Is it hurting right now?" he asks, quietly.

She closes her eyes and nods, tears still sliding down her cheeks.

He reaches over and slips his hand into hers, the one that's resting against Ruby's back. "Squeeze my hand. Just like when they were born, you squeeze my hand whenever it hurts, okay?"

She nods again, taking a deep breath, trying to calm down. Her grip tightens until she's squeezing _hard_ , and they sit quietly together, listening to Ruby's soft breathing and swallowing. Eventually, she falls asleep and Liv reaches down to break the suction around her nipple, making a small sound of relief.

"Here, can I take her for a couple minutes?" Fitz asks, phrasing it as a question instead of an offer.

She nods, sniffling. "Sure. Go see Daddy, bug."

"Hi, sweet pea," he murmurs, cradling his daughter and turning around, "Hi. Do you have a nice full tummy? You're a good eater, baby girl. Too good, apparently."

He coos to Ruby for a few minutes, swaying to make sure she's deeply asleep before he carefully lays her in the co-sleeper. When he turns around Liv is slumped in the rocking chair, a hand over her eyes.

"Hey, c'mere."

She doesn't hesitate to let him pull her up into a hug, burying her face in his chest. Widening his stance a little, he lets her lean all of her weight onto him, slowly rubbing her back.

"I'm not mad at her," she sniffles, voice muffled against his chest.

"No, of course you're not," he soothes, resting his lips in her hair.

"But I don't look forward to feeding her right now and _I hate that_."

"I know. I know. You are an incredible mom," he says softly, bending to murmur against her ear, "You are not selfish. You're doing a great job."

He holds her, whispering all of the things she needs to hear over and over again, until she takes a deep breath and untucks her face. She steps back and scrubs a hand over her face, rubbing her swollen eyes.

Fitz sighs, watching her carefully. "So, Abby's here, she said she'd stay for the rest of the day—"

"—oh, she doesn't have to do that, we should tell her—"

"I want you to take a little time to yourself—"

"—I'm fine," she starts, shaking her head.

"Hey, listen, it's _okay_ ," he insists, running his hands up and down her arms, "Abby has Micah, I have Ruby, go take a hot shower. Or a hot bath, whatever you want, okay? Everybody's fine."

She absently bites her thumbnail, glancing past him to where Ruby's asleep. "Are you sure?"

"Liv, I'm positive. She's been attached to you non-stop for the past week, you need a break, I _want_ you to take a break."

"I am due to wash my hair," she admits, touching her bun self-consciously.

"That's perfect. Take a nice long shower and wash your hair. I promise I won't even leave her in there while you're gone, I'll let her sleep on my chest."

"God, does Micah hate me? I haven't even spent any time with him today—"

"Okay, that's enough," he chuckles, physically turning her toward the bathroom, "Micah is having the time of his life, he _loves_ Abby, you know that."

When they reach the bathroom she turns around and looks up at him gratefully, eyes full of tears again.

Fitz presses a long kiss against her forehead. "Take as much time as you need."

* * *

He wonders if she'll really take any kind of decent break, but to his delight she's in the bathroom for a little over an hour. By the time she comes back out she's smiling, freshly showered and looking much more relaxed.

"Look, baby girl, here's Mommy," he coos, glancing up at her and then back down to his daughter.

Liv smiles and crawls on to the bed with them, changed into a clean nursing top and leggings. "She awake?"

"She sure is. She took a nice long nap, she just opened her eyes a few minutes ago."

"Hi, baby," Liv murmurs, cuddling up against his side so she can see Ruby too, "Look at those eyes. Hi. Hi, did you have fun with Daddy?"

Ruby regards them carefully, blinking slowly, brows slightly furrowed as she takes in the world. She stretches her arms, grunting and squeaking softly, making fists and then stretching her fingers out again. They laugh when she makes a face, half of her mouth scrunched up.

"Did you have a good shower?"

" _Yes_ ," she breathes, stroking Ruby's tummy, taking one of her hands, "I _really_ needed that."

"You smell amazing," he comments, nuzzling his face into her curls, "Abby texted to say that she asked Micah if he wanted to come up and visit us, and he said no."

Liv giggles, playing with Ruby's feet. "Of course not. He has a captive audience down there, what does he need us for?"

They watch Ruby quietly for a few minutes, soaking up her awake time.

"Well," he sighs, looking down at Liv, "What do you want to do now? Do you want to take a nap?"

She's smiling, watching her baby wiggle around. "No…I think I just—I want to hold her. Can I have her?"

"Of course you can."

Liv reaches over and lifts Ruby into her arms, snuggling the baby against her chest. She settles in easily, immediately starting to look drowsy as her Mommy's scent and warmth wrap around her.

"I'm sorry Mommy didn't have a very good morning," she murmurs, kissing her head, "I love you. I love you, bug."

She glances at Fitz and he's watching her sympathetically, eyes full of understanding.

"I want to breastfeed her more than _anything_ ," she sighs, trying to relax and let the words come, knowing he's an excellent listener when she gives him a chance.

"I know you do. And you _are_ , Liv."

"What if I can't?"

Instantly, her eyes fill with tears again, and she presses another kiss to Ruby's soft curls.

"Why do you want to breastfeed?"

"What do you mean?" she asks, frowning as she wipes her eyes.

"Why is it so important to you?" he says casually, relaxing against the pillows, "I'm not saying it shouldn't be, I'm just curious."

"Well," she says slowly, rubbing Ruby's back as she thinks about it, "It's good for her. They don't get constipated or gassy, Micah hardly ever did, anyway. And she's getting all of my antibodies, it helps her immune system."

"Okay…what else?"

It takes her longer to answer this time, because she knows what he wants her to talk about and she needs to collect herself a little.

"It's really special," she says softly, looking at him, "I can't really put it into words, it's just—it's our special time. I feel like I was so bonded with Micah when he was tiny, and I want that with her, too. And after I go back to work—we really needed that time, just him and I. And I know I'll need it with her, too."

"Okay, well, let's think about that," he offers, lacing his fingers together, "Let's say the pain never gets any better and you can't breastfeed her. That's not going to happen, because you're so determined that there's no way you won't make it work. But let's just say you decide to stop. You can still build in that time. You can _still_ be the one to wake up and cuddle her in the morning while she has a bottle, and rock her to sleep at night."

"I guess you're right..."

He can't help but smile, watching Ruby fall asleep against her chest. "You're already bonded with her, Liv. You're her mom, no one is more familiar to her than you are."

"I know," she says tearfully, wiping her eyes again, "I _know_. I just feel so crappy today, I don't know why I can't shake it. She's so beautiful, and you're being so great, and Micah has been doing so well. I should be _happy_."

"I think maybe you just have a little bit of the baby blues," Fitz says gently, reaching over to rub her leg, "It's okay. It's normal."

He passes her a tissue and she wipes her eyes thoughtfully. "I guess you're right. I honestly didn't even think of that, that it could be my hormones. I've been so distracted by all this nursing stuff."

"Totally understandable."

"I remember crying a lot after Micah was born, but I don't remember feeling like this."

"You also didn't have a three year old when Micah was born, and you weren't having any of this nursing pain. Liv, you _have_ to cut yourself some slack," he says, trying to help her have some perspective.

"You're right," she sighs, reclining back more, "You're right, I know you are. It's just hard. It's hard to take a step back and see that."

"Well, that's where I come in," Fitz smiles, leaning in to gently kiss Ruby's cheek, breathing her in.

She can't help but smile and melt, watching him. "Hey, I want one too."

He grins, making a show of kissing his way up her arm, giving her an eskimo kiss before he presses his lips to hers.

She cradles his face with her palm, whispering against his mouth. "Thank you."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Thanks for reading!**_


	67. Lazarus: III

_**Day 50**_

Three weeks later, they have their first fight.

She's been cold to him all day, and he _cannot_ figure out what's wrong.

Things have been going surprisingly well, she's stuck with her therapy, they've settled into the limbo of living together without much issue. But today, something's different, and it's pissing him off. She's being petty, nagging him about things that have never seemed to bother her before, and by the time she starts complaining about his choice of television show he's had enough.

"You know what? Maybe we should just go to bed," he huffs, tossing the remote aside, standing up, "I'm going to bed."

She shrugs and stands up too, looking nonplussed. "Fine by me."

As they climb the stairs, he hears her muttering under her breath.

" _Just another night of dealing with your snoring_ —"

"What is your _problem_ today?" he throws over his shoulder, beyond annoyed.

"My problem? My problem is that I've been living with you for almost two months, and _you've barely touched me_!" she yells, stopping in her tracks.

Fitz stops, turning to stare at her.

 _Oh._

"Do you even want me anymore?" she asks, staring back at him, voice shaking, "What are we doing, if you don't want me anymore? Why am I still here?"

 _Oh,_ _ **shit**_ _. Is she for real?_

After nearly a full minute, he finally takes a step toward her.

"Do you think I haven't thought about kissing you every day?" he seethes, walking back down the stairs, " _Every damn day_? You came here more broken than I even knew a person could be, wanting _me_ to help you put yourself back together. You wanted _me_. And then, even when you were back on your feet, you _stayed_. Do you know how long I've waited for that?"

By the time he's on the same level with her, her breaths are coming quickly, lips parted. She looks shocked, like she hadn't been expecting this at all.

"I've _stayed_ for _years_ , Liv. Years. And you haven't. But this time, you have, and you're acting like you want this. So, yeah, I've thought about kissing you. I've thought about putting my hands on you—"

He's close now, voice soft and fierce with emotion.

"—putting my mouth on you, making you feel good, making you _come_. Fuck, I can't stop thinking about making love to you in our house, in our _bed_. I think about it all the time, I'm still _so_ in love with you. But do you seriously have to ask me why I haven't gone there?"

"Why haven't you?" she whispers, looking at him with wide, vulnerable eyes.

The look on his face as he tries to explain makes her eyes fill with tears, because he looks so _scared_. She shakes her head a little, confused, caught off guard, wanting to understand. Cupping the back of his neck, she guides his face into her shoulder, trying to soothe away that look.

" _Shh_."

Fitz takes a few breaths, letting her hold him.

"What?" she breathes, running her hand through his hair, "Tell me."

"I—I'm afraid that if we do _this_ ," he murmurs, resting his forehead against hers, "It's going to get mixed up with all of _that_. It's just going to be part of your recovery, it'll be because you need comfort, not because you want to be with me. And I can't do that. I can't—"

"— _Fitz_ —"

"—no, Liv, I can't do that. I'm—I'm tired, I'm tired of getting my heart broken."

"—I know that," she says, eyes widening, nodding along, "I know you're tired, I'm tired too. And this isn't—I'm not frustrated because I need to get off. I don't need comfort sex. I—"

Liv breaks off to cradle his face, smiling through her tears.

"I knew you were a good man, but, these past two months…I couldn't even fathom that kind of love, not in my wildest dreams. And it's mine. You've proven to me over and over again that it's mine, that it's _ours_. I'm so… _ashamed_ , that it took this long for me to see it, to see _us_ the way that you do. But I see us now, I promise that I do."

They're both shaking now, from the emotion of it all, from the naked vulnerability of her words.

"You're right, I've stayed because I want this. _I'm in this_. I love you," she breathes, pulling him close again, "I'm in love with you. I'm _so_ in love with you, and _that's_ why I want you. I love you and I want to be close to you. I want to touch you, I want you inside of me, I—"

All of the breath rushes out of her because his lips are suddenly hovering over hers, brushing lightly, feeling the movement as she talks.

He nuzzles her nose, slowly dragging his lips across hers, barely a taste. "You are _incredibly_ frustrating."

"I know," she whispers, hands creeping over his back, "But you love me anyway."

"I do."

Finally, _finally_ , he kisses her.

It's long and quiet, just breathing, and pressing, and _hands_. His hands are moving over her the way she's dreamt about, the way she's _wanted_ ; stroking her back, thumbs sliding tantalizingly close to her breasts, playfully squeezing her ass. When he presses her back into the wall, settling his hips against hers, she whimpers helplessly.

Her lips part, tongue sliding over his, teasing and stroking. Their balance falters as they fall into each other, but he lifts her into his arms, pressing her back against the wall when her legs wrap around his hips. She palms his cheek with one hand, wrapping the other around his neck, grinding her pelvis against his.

"I want you so much," she whimpers, scratching gently through his hair.

Fitz growls softly into her mouth, rocking his hips one more time before he turns and carries her up the stairs.

When they get to the bedroom, he immediately kneels on the bed and lays her down, crawling over her, falling into a kiss tongue-first. She's making the most arousing sounds, wrapping her legs around him, slipping her hands underneath his shirt. He sits up to pull it off and then takes her hands, lacing their fingers together above her head, nudging her chin up to drag his teeth over her throat.

" _Oh…wan—Fitz…make love to me…please…please…_ "

" _Shh…don't have to beg, Livvie…how…god, you're so beautiful…mmm…_ "

She's wearing a couple of layers and he impatiently tugs her sweater off, trying to get access to more of her softly scented skin. When he peels off her last layer, he reaches for her hands again, slowing everything down. Her brows furrow as he brushes their lips together, gently pinning her hands against the pillows, dipping his mouth to her neck. She moans softly when he starts to suck warm, wet kisses against her skin, arching up into him.

"Feels so good, baby," she sighs, pushing against him until he releases her hands.

"Don't _rush_ me," he teases, nipping at the skin just below her ear.

She smiles and bites her lip, threading her fingers into his hair as he sucks hard, soothing the skin with his tongue. "I'm not rushing, just wanna touch you."

Fitz hums softly, kissing his way over her collarbones, down the middle of her chest.

"Hello, ladies," he murmurs, nuzzling the tops of her breasts.

She giggles, cupping the back of his neck. "Are you talking to my boobs?"

"Mmm," he confirms, sliding her bra straps down, "Love them. Missed them."

She laughs again, slipping her arms free.

He glances up at her with hooded eyes, grinning and nuzzling her chest affectionately, peeling the fabric away. "Your boobs are perfect."

He's always loved her breasts. They're small and firm, so soft and sensitive to his touch. Humming in contentment, he listens to her sigh as he fills his hand with one, pressing hot kisses over the other.

"I love that you love them," she breathes, closing her eyes.

The softest, most arousing moan escapes her when he closes his mouth around her left nipple, suckling gently.

" _Oh_ …that feels so good. Fitz…"

He groans quietly, spreading his fingers out to span her ribcage, feeling it expand and contract more rapidly as he sucks harder.

 _Oh, he's missed touching her, making her moan, making her_ _ **writhe**_.

Both of her nipples get equal attention until she's panting, rhythmically rocking her hips against his stomach, fingers pulling at his waves. Kissing his way back up the center of her chest, he nuzzles her neck, biting gently.

"You're a tease," she murmurs, tipping her head to give him better access.

Fitz grins mischievously, his breath warm against her throat, dragging his lips up to suck her earlobe into his mouth.

"You're _delicious_."

She giggles breathlessly, shivering as he kisses down the column of her neck again.

"Kiss me, baby."

He happily indulges in a slow, soft kiss, shifting his focus back to her mouth.

" _Mmm…_ "

They play for a few minutes, pulling away and coming back together in a familiar game of chase, soft pecks and nips. He's the one who catches her and presses hard, nudging her back against the pillows, fitting his mouth over her bottom lip and sucking sensually. She moans, helplessly arching into him, her hips unconsciously flexing, trying to connect with him.

Fitz groans deeply, finally nestling his hips into the cradle of her pelvis, rocking the hard line of his cock against her clit. She gasps into his mouth, whimpering as his tongue moves in long strokes over hers. Pulling her thighs up around his waist, he lets her take control of the kiss, grinding his lower half in slow circles.

When she pulls away and cries out, her hips rocking in an impatient counter rhythm, he knows she's reaching her limit.

"Are you close?" he whispers against her lips, "Are you gonna come for me? Look at me."

Hazy, desperate brown eyes blink open to meet piercing blue, trying to focus on him even as the movement of his hips intensifies.

" _Fitz…please…_ "

He slips his hand between them, pressing his fingers against her clit through her leggings, and it's all she needs. She digs her nails into his biceps, moaning and writhing through her orgasm, chest heaving softly.

" _Oh my god…oh my god…baby…mmm…_ "

She draws him in for an open-mouthed kiss, whimpering into it, stroking her tongue over his.

" _Want you…I want you…_ "

" _Shh…_ "

Fitz kisses her calm, plying her mouth with deep, warm kisses until her breathing slows down and she's sighing quietly. Her hands drift down to his belt, pulling it open before she pushes against his chest, flipping them over. His hands come up to rub her thighs while she opens his pants, lifting up so he can push them down, pulling them off the rest of the way.

 _God, he's beautiful._

His abs jump when she leans down to kiss the dips and curves of muscle, and it makes her smile. Her lips part and she swirls her tongue across one of his more sensitive spots, sucking the skin into her mouth, biting gently. She sucks harder, marking him, making his hips shift restlessly, as she pushes his boxers down an inch.

Just an inch.

" _Livvie…_ "

Taking her time, she kisses a line above the waistband, following it from hip to hip.

He sucks in a breath as she pushes the fabric away, lifting his hips. "Hey, let's just—you don't—"

" _Mmm-mmm_ ," she hums, shaking her head, wrapping her hand around him.

He's hard, but she feels him fill even more as she strokes, leaning down to breathe over him.

" _Fuck_ ," he whispers, hands tightening around fistfuls of bedding.

" _Hmm…_ "

Laying one palm on his belly, she takes him into her mouth, feeling the way his abs contract and his breathing picks up.

He hasn't let her do this enough times that she feels she knows _exactly_ what he likes; but it's also hard to tell because he seems like _everything_. He groans when she uses rhythmic movements, stroking him with her mouth and her hand; he curses when she takes him deeper, moving slowly; he makes little strangled sounds when she sucks around the head, shifting restlessly; and when she cups his hips, lets him thrust gently, he pants, and moans, and—

" _Liv, stop, stop, stop_ — _fuck_ —"

She gentles her movements, rubbing soothingly over his hips and thighs. While she stands to take off her leggings he watches with dark eyes, sitting up, reaching for her when she comes back. He draws her into his arms, pulling her into a kiss as she settles into his lap, wrapping her legs around his hips. Hands in his hair, she sighs and angles him more, slipping her tongue deeper into his mouth.

In this position, she has to trust him to take care of her because she doesn't have a ton of leverage, but that only makes it more intimate and sacred. The first time he'd murmured for her to wrap her legs around him, just weeks into their relationship, she'd been unsure, never having been in lotus before. But her orgasm had been so intense that she'd _cried_ , rocking in his lap, face pressed against his neck.

"Hey," he whispers, pulling his fingers from inside of her, "Do we need—I have—"

It takes her a second but then she gets it.

 _Protection. He's asking if they need protection._

She shakes her head, kissing him. "Mmm-mmm. We're safe."

"Sure?" he breathes, brows furrowing a little.

"Promise. We are," she murmurs, tucking her face into his neck, sucking a line of kisses down to his shoulder.

He knows for a fact that she hasn't taken any birth control pills since she's been in Vermont, but he trusts her, and he _really_ doesn't want to stop long enough to have a longer conversation about it.

She presses on his shoulders, helping him left her hips enough so that they're lined up.

"Baby," she moans quietly, relaxing as he slowly slides in.

Lotus puts him deep inside of her, and they take their time getting into it, stopping to kiss and massage. When she's settled, he gently tugs her torso up against his, running warm palms over her back.

" _Fuck_ ," he breathes softly, rocking a little.

She hums, tightening and then releasing her muscles, flexing her hips to feel him, to remember the way they fit together. He has to bury his face in her neck and breathe, _pant_ , because she feels _so good_. Her arms come up around his shoulders, hands cupping the back of his neck, holding him.

"Wanna move, baby, _please_ ," she sobs, fisting his hair with shaky hands.

He groans, palming her hips, starting the familiar rocking, grinding rhythm they both love. It overwhelms her for a moment and she loses her breathe, panting into his mouth, whimpering over and over.

And then everything gets quiet, and the world narrows, and they're only focused on each other.

 _Finally_.

* * *

"I _missed_ that."

She murmurs it later, while she's curled against his chest afterward.

"Mmm. Me too," he whispers, burying his nose in her hair.

Humming quietly, she settles in closer, starting to drift off.

Fitz takes a breath to speak and then stops. "I—"

When he doesn't continue, she props her chin on his chest, looking at him quizzically.

"What?"

He looks apprehensive, speaking carefully. "I…don't know how to ask you this, so I'm just going to ask. You haven't taken birth control since you've been here, but you said we're safe, and I trust you, but—I guess I just want to know—"

"I have an IUD," she answers calmly, immediately figuring out exactly what he's trying to ask.

"An IU—what?"

Liv smiles gently, rolling away from him and reaching for her phone. After a quick internet search she hands it to him, an information sheet open for him to read.

"Here. This is what it looks like, and how it works."

His eyes flick over the page as he reads, brows slightly furrowed. "So…it's in your—uh—"

"Yes," she says slowly, taking the phone back when he hands it to her, "It's easier than taking a pill every day. I don't even have to think about it."

"And it's effective? Sorry, I just haven't—I don't know anything about it."

"It's okay," she breathes, cradling his face, "It's good you're asking questions. They're _very_ effective. It's just like any other hormonal method except all the error is taken out. It's always there, so it's always working."

"Okay," he smiles, tucking an escaped strand of hair behind her ear, "Cool."

"Cool?" she giggles, sliding up to share his pillow.

"Yeah, it's pretty cool," he shrugs, turning to face her, "Didn't know that was a thing, it sounds great."

" _You're_ pretty great, you know that?" she murmurs, kissing him softly.

* * *

 _ **A/N: So, here's the thing, there**_ **might** _ **be more Lazarus. I think one more chapter would wrap it up nicely. BUT, I really want to write some fluffy, holiday pieces for The Firsts, so I think that will be my priority until the new year. Until then, I hope you guys enjoyed this part!**_


	68. The First Christmas in Vermont: I

_**Micah – 4.5 Years, Ruby – 10 Months**_

* * *

 _2 Weeks Before Christmas…_

"So, we can just go cut a tree down? Any tree we want?"

Fitz smiles at her question, sprinkling cheese onto the pan of scrambled eggs he's tending. "Sure. It's our property, we can do whatever we want."

It's their first Christmas holiday in Vermont, at the cabin they'd gone back and forth about building for three months, and it's _perfect_. On enough acreage that it's completely secluded, it feels like their own private winter wonderland. Fully furnished with all the comforts of home, the three bedroom, two bathroom cabin feels big enough for all four of them, but it's still cozy enough to feel like a _cabin_ , not a house.

"I guess I forget that we own the land, too," Liv says, absently nudging Micah's orange juice away from the edge of the table, unconsciously rocking back and forth.

"Do you think she'll want any eggs?" Fitz asks, nodding to a nursing Ruby.

"I doubt it, I brought her out here because she was _not_ going for a short session. I've been trying to cut her off so she eats more solids, but—"

As soon as she tries to ease Ruby away she whines, pushing back and nuzzling in close again.

"—but she keeps doing _that_. Might be liquid breakfast today."

"Well, we're in a new place," he smiles, bringing the pan of eggs over, "She might be a little unsure, just needs extra time with Mommy."

"Yeah, I think Daddy's right, huh?" she coos, playing with Ruby's curls, "You're alright, my love. It's just new."

"Micah, come eat some breakfast, please," Fitz calls, listening to his son's running footsteps.

Micah runs into the kitchen at full speed, still dressed in his owl-printed pajamas.

"Daddy, I can have umm, have, umm—"

"Slow down, bud, your plate is right here."

"—umm, I can have pancakes?!"

"Well, why don't you sit down and see? I think there's a couple things you like on your plate."

At the appearance of her big brother, Ruby finally decides she's finished nursing and sits up, reaching for Olivia's fork.

"Nuh-uh, little miss, I need that. Here, you have your own fork."

"Pancakes!" Micah exclaims happily, stabbing his fork into them immediately.

"There's eggs there, too. Don't forget about those," Fitz points, handing Liv a mug of tea.

"Thanks, baby. Freezing pancakes might be the best idea you've ever had."

"He asks for them _every_ single morning. At least if I make them myself I can keep them on the healthier side."

As soon as Fitz sits down with them, Ruby puts her arms out, leaning toward him.

"Are you serious?" Liv scoffs, pretending to be offended, "That's it? As soon as you're done eating, you want Daddy?"

" _Dada_ "

"Yeah, yeah, _we know_ , you're saying one word, and it's 'dada'," she smiles, handing Ruby to Fitz, "She makes me feel like a food truck, sometimes."

"Mommy, what's a food truck?" Micah asks, eyebrows knitted together, mouth full of pancake.

* * *

"Oh my gosh…I _can't_ …"

"Turn her around, I need a picture…Ruby!"

They're both dying with laughter, wiping tears from their eyes. Olivia turns Ruby around, revealing the slight scowl on their daughter's face, and Fitz doubles over.

"Aww, baby girl," he laughs, holding up his phone, "Can you smile for Daddy? Just a little bit?"

"She's so mad," Liv giggles, supporting the baby, trying to get her to stand up, "She's _limp_."

They're on the front porch, preparing to trek across the property and pick out a tree, and it's _cold_. They've bundled Ruby into a snowsuit for the first time, and she is _not_ happy about it, frowning from beneath a wool hat _and_ the hood of the snowsuit. Her cheeks are slightly squished, arms outstretched because the lavender material is so thick.

"We're literally having a 'Christmas Story' moment right now," Fitz wheezes, snapping away with his phone.

"Guys, come _on_ ," Micah calls from several feet away, jumping around in the snow.

"When did we become ' _guys_ '?"

"I don't know," Liv sighs, standing up, shifting Ruby to her hip, "But I don't like it, he's getting too big."

"Do you want to wear her in the carrier?"

"I think that would be wise," she laughs, hefting Ruby higher on her hip with a bounce, "We're nylon-on-nylon right now, lots of sliding happening."

They struggle for a few more minutes, still laughing as they get Ruby strapped in, facing outward so she can see what's going on.

"Alright, little marshmallow baby," Liv giggles, bouncing her, "Are you ready?"

" _Dada!_ "

"Yup, that's just great, bug. I only carried you inside my belly for nine whole months, why would you want to say _'mama'_? That would be crazy!" she teases, leaning in to repeatedly smooch Ruby's cheek, finally earning herself some baby giggles.

"Let's go, ladies, before Micah leaves without us," Fitz grins, hopping down into the snow, picking up the saw, "Livvie, please don't fall over and smush her."

Olivia laughs, following him. "I'll do my best. Although she's so padded, she seems fairly protected."

"Daddy! I want _that_ tree!" Micah proclaims, pointing to a tree in the distance that's roughly twenty feet tall.

"Well," Fitz grins, crouching next to him, "Do you think that one will fit in our new, special Christmas cabin?"

"Yeah!"

"You do?! Maybe let's get a little closer and then tell me again, if you think it will fit, okay?"

"Come on, Mommy, let's go!"

"We're coming! Mommy's a little top-heavy, I have to be careful," Liv smiles, stomping slowly through the heavy snow, "What do you think, baby? Doing okay?"

Ruby's content and quiet, looking around with wide eyes.

* * *

Eventually, they make their way over to an area thick with evergreens and stop in the middle, looking over the options.

"Well, what do you think, bud? Which one? Do you still think that big one will fit?"

Micah stares up at the giant tree for a moment. "Umm. Maybe, umm, let's get another one."

"Okay, I think that's a great idea. How about over here?"

"Mommy, do you wanna pick?"

"No, I want _you_ to pick," Liv smiles, swaying back and forth, gently playing with Ruby's mitten-clad hands, "You'll do a great job, I know it."

"How about this one?" Fitz suggests, stopping in front of a respectable, six-foot tree.

Again, Micah stares for a moment, contemplating. "Nope."

He trots off in the opposite direction and they share an amused look, trying not to laugh at him. After repeating this process several times, they narrow it down to two.

"Okay, so, the way I see it," Fitz says conspiratorially, kneeling beside him, "This one over here is a little bit fatter, and this one is a little bit skinnier, but it's taller."

"Yeah, this one is umm, way, _way_ tall," Micah agrees, touching the branches.

"You know," Olivia adds, unconsciously bouncing Ruby when she starts to squirm, "If you pick the shorter one, I bet we'll be able to get the star on the very, _very_ top. With the taller on we might not be able to."

This new piece of information appeals to Micah, and he immediately turns back to the shorter, fuller tree. "This one, guys!"

"Okay, are you sure?"

"Yeah! _Cut it, Dad!_ " he cheers, punching his fist in the air like he's issued a battle cry.

They both laugh at his exuberance, and Fitz moves to start sawing.

Liv twirls a little, trying to soothe Ruby's fussing before it gets worse. "Hey, Micah will you come talk to Ruby for a minute? I think she wants to say hi to you."

"Rubyyyy," he coos adorably, "Here, eat some snow!"

"I don't think she's tasted snow yet, why don't you show her?" Liv suggests, crouching down.

"Okay, look, here's how you do it. You umm, get a snow, and then, stick out your tongue like this!" Micah explains, sticking his tongue into a handful of snow, "Here."

Ruby watches him happily, always entertained by her big brother, mimicking the way he's stuck his tongue out. She jumps a little at the icy sensation but then starts to laugh, wiggling her tongue. Micah laughs too, scooping up more snow for her to 'eat', continuing the game.

"How's it going over there, Daddy?" Liv calls after a few minutes, seeing that Fitz is clearly out of breath.

"Oh, just peachy," he pants, grinning over at them, "Should only take me about another four hours."

She laughs, directing her attention back to the kids.

* * *

Two small meltdowns, and one long trek back to the house later, _everyone_ is ready for lunch and some quiet time.

"Why do even the smallest outings with kids feel like a huge endeavor?" Liv sighs, wrestling Ruby out of her snowsuit, "We didn't even go anywhere, we literally just took a walk."

"Hey, bud, wait a minute, okay? And then I'll help you," Fitz says, kicking off his own boots.

"I want them _off_ ," Micah whines, becoming increasingly frustrated when he can't get his boots off.

He melts down in four seconds flat, dissolving into tears.

"Micah, one _minute,_ it's okay," he repeats, patience stretched a little thin after dragging a heavy tree through the snow.

"Here, Daddy," Liv says calmly, handing Ruby to him, "Go see if you can get her to eat some lunch."

Fitz takes Ruby and heads out of the mud room into the kitchen, closing the glass-paneled door behind him.

"Alright, Ruby girl, what do you want? We have some leftovers from last night, let's try those," he murmurs, kissing her cheek.

Settling Ruby into her high chair, he glances out to the mud room, checking on Liv and Micah. She's gotten him to stand up in front of her and he's still crying, clearly venting his frustration while she listens patiently, brows furrowed as she tries to understand what he's saying. Sometimes her patience blows him away, and he can't help but watch for a moment, trying to imagine what she's saying as she talks to him calmly.

Ruby is happily stuffing pieces of pork chop into her mouth by the time they come inside, and Micah shuffles over to him shyly.

"Go ahead, ask Daddy. He's not mad at you," Liv encourages, opening the refrigerator.

"No, bud, I'm not mad at you," Fitz breathes, eyes widening in shock, "Everybody gets frustrated sometimes, right?"

"Yeah," Micah agrees quietly, looking at the floor when Fitz kneels in front of him.

"But maybe next time, lets work on not crying and using words, right? You're so good at using words, lets keep doing that. Okay?"

Micah nods, a little smile peeking out.

"What did you want to ask me?"

"Umm, can we make, umm, special green cheese?"

"Green cheese?" Fitz asks, confused, glancing at Liv.

She holds up the container of his homemade pesto, and it clicks.

"Oh, the special green grilled cheese! You liked that, huh? Is that what you want for lunch?"

"Yeah!" Micah grins, bouncing happily, "I like it, Daddy!"

"Okay," Fitz chuckles, standing up again, "C'mere, are you gonna help me?"

* * *

"Daddy," Micah giggles uncontrollably, backing away as Fitz stalks him around the couch.

Fitz doesn't say anything, growling low in his chest instead, crawling faster. Micah squeals, running away. Fitz changes direction, surprising him on the other side, making him shriek with laughter.

"Daddy!"

Ruby watches with wide eyes from Olivia's lap, in the clingy phase of her night where she really just wants her mama, but doesn't want to miss out on the action.

"Daddy is so silly, huh?" Liv whispers to her, smiling as she watches her boys play.

Eventually Micah gets brave and runs at Fitz, tackling him to the ground.

"Hey, Daddy, don't you think it's bathtime?" Liv calls, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

Fitz glances over and catches her meaningful gaze. "Oh, I think Mommy's right. Do you know what we brought, Micah?"

"What?" he breathes, eyes growing big and round.

"We brought some special crayons that you can draw _in_ the bathtub with! Do you want to go see?"

"Yeah!" he exclaims, jumping up and running toward the bathroom.

Ruby's ready for bed, already rubbing her eyes and trying to nurse as Liv stands up, rocking her.

"Okay bug, we're going too, I know. Say night-night to Daddy."

"Night-night, baby girl," Fitz tells her softly, kissing her forehead.

"Hey," Liv murmurs, stepping in against his chest, "Divide and conquer bedtime, and then drink wine and make out in front of the fire?"

"Oh, _hell_ , yes," he grins, leaning in to kiss her.

* * *

" _I saw Mommy kissing Santa Clause_ …"

They're tipsy, and he's singing softly _right_ into her ear, tickling her.

" _Stop_ ," she giggles, squirming beneath him, carding her fingers through his hair.

"… _underneath the mistletoe last night_."

"You're so _corny_."

"You knew this about me way before we got married," he argues, pressing another kiss to her mouth, "Ample time to get out of it. Yet, you're still here, we've had two babies—"

" _Shh_. Too much talking not enough kissing."

The fire crackles pleasantly as they kiss, adding to the warm, soothing atmosphere.

"Mmm," she murmurs, drawing his tongue into her mouth, "You taste like chocolate."

"Well, we did make hot chocolate. Very _adult_ hot chocolate."

Liv giggles again, kissing him slowly.

"Hey," he whispers, nudging his nose against hers, "Have I thanked you for agreeing to this? Taking two weeks off to come up here?"

"Yeah, you have," she smiles, cupping his cheek with her palm, "But you don't need to. This is…it's perfect. I'm so glad we're here."

* * *

 **A/N: YAY fluffy holiday fic! This is part I of...I have no idea how many haha. I plan to write them up until the 25th and possibly until New Years. So stay tuned for more!**


	69. The First Christmas in Vermont: II

_**Micah – 4.5 Years, Ruby – 10 Months**_

* * *

 _2 Weeks Before Christmas…_

 _5:30am…_

"Ahh…ahh…dooo…maaaa…"

" _No_ ," Liv moans, snuggling back against Fitz, not wanting to leave the pocket of warmth beneath their comforter, " _Why?_ "

Fitz makes a sleepy noise, nuzzling his face into her neck. "Maybe she'll go back to sleep."

"Wishful thinking," she yawns, stretching a little, "We've been putting her down at the same time, why is she waking up so early all of a sudden?"

He makes another soft, tired noise, sighing deeply.

Ruby quiets for a few seconds and then starts babbling again, getting louder and louder, starting to cry a little.

Liv finally sighs, moving to get out of bed. "I don't want her to wake up Micah."

Still half asleep, Fitz hums, hand absently reaching for her as she gets up.

She tiptoes next door to Ruby's room, trying to make as little noise as possible.

"Hi, bug. Hey, _hey_ , shh. Hi."

Ruby's standing up, shaking her crib rail as she yells and whines.

"Hi. Oh goodness, okay, Mommy's here. C'mere, bug. _Shh, shh_."

She lifts Ruby from the crib and cuddles her, turning to go back to their room. They've chosen not to make a habit of having kids in bed with them, but sometimes it seems like the best option to preserve every precious moment of sleep. Shuffling back down the hallway, Liv closes their bedroom door and immediately crawls back into bed. Ruby fusses and whimpers, obviously still tired and wanting comfort.

"I know, baby, I know. _Shh_."

She lies down and unbuttons her pajama shirt, pulling Ruby in close so she can nurse, smiling sleepily when she feels Fitz reach across to rest his hand on her hip.

"That better?" she murmurs, glancing down to make sure Ruby's comfortable, "There we go."

Humming softly, she rubs the baby's back, hoping she'll nurse herself to sleep for a couple more hours.

* * *

 _6:30am…_

A 'couple more hours' turns out to be a tall order, but they do manage to get one solid hour with Ruby sprawled between them.

When Fitz opens his eyes again, Ruby's sitting up, staring directly at him.

"Good morning," he chuckles, poking her little belly to make her smile, "Did you get some more sleep?"

"Dada," she whispers, grinning.

Secretly, he _loves_ that she's saying 'dada' already, even though he knows baby's first word is essentially luck of the draw.

He beams, sitting up to lift her into his lap. "That's right, I'm Dada. You know, you better start saying 'mama' pretty soon, you're gonna give Mommy a complex."

She points to Liv's sleeping form, looking at him to confirm.

"That's right! That's Mama. Can you say 'mama'?"

Ruby doesn't say anything, wiggling out of his arms and crawling over to Liv, ever so carefully peeling one of her eyelids open before Fitz can stop her.

" _Ack_ —wha—hi, baby. Yes, that's my eye."

"Sorry, should've seen that coming," Fitz grimaces, reaching to pull Ruby back across the bed.

Immediately, she starts whimpering and trying to break free.

"Oh, oh, oh goodness," Liv teases, stretching, imitating her frantic breathing, "Do you think Daddy's not going to let you nurse? Hmm? Can I go to the bathroom first?"

Ruby whines continuously for the minute she's gone, only comforted when Liv climbs back into bed and reaches for her.

"Come here, little love," she murmurs, settling the baby into her arms, "Such a tragedy, I know. Patience is hard."

"She is _loving_ having Mommy around, isn't she? How many times did you guys nurse yesterday?"

Olivia yawns, shaking her head. "I have no idea. Six times, maybe? I don't even care, honestly, it's so much better than pumping in my office. Right, bug? Snuggles are way better."

Ruby hums contentedly, little lips splayed out as she suckles. They're quiet for a few minutes, enjoying the early morning peace, listening to the priceless sounds of a happy, comfy baby.

"What do you want to do today?"

Fitz grins, eyes lighting up. "Decorate the tree."

* * *

 _10:30am…_

"Ruby Elise, take that out of your mouth."

Fitz pries the string of lights from Ruby's mouth, uncurling her fingers from around them. She immediately starts to cry, devastated to have lost her shiny new toy.

"I know, it's terrible, isn't it? Such a tragedy," he coos, trying to hand her a few soft ornaments, "How dare Daddy try to keep you from electrocuting yourself."

"Dada," she sobs, reaching for the lights.

"Nope, sorry baby girl," he sighs, looping the end of the strand around his arm, "We need the rest of these lights anyway, we're almost done."

"Mommy! Look at this one!"

Micah's rifling through their box of ornaments, pulling them all out while they finish winding the lights around the tree.

"Aww, it's a little lamb! That's a cute one, huh?"

"Yeah! It's so cute!" he giggles, dancing on the spot happily, "When can I put it _on_?"

"Just a couple more minutes. Daddy and I have to finish the lights."

Ruby has quieted, quickly forgetting about the lights and focusing her attention on her big brother. She crawls over and pulls up on the large box, peering inside, watching Micah wave various ornaments around. When she can't reach any of them, she starts to whine, reaching into the box until Micah hands her one.

"Did you give her a soft one, pumpkin?"

"Yep," he chirps, thoughtfully considering a sparkly snowman ornament, holding it up to the light, "A gingerbread man."

"Thank you, bud, you're such a good brother."

"Thanks, I try," Micah sighs nonchalantly.

Olivia and Fitz burst into laughter, leaning around the tree to look at each other and then at their son.

" _Where_ did you learn that?" Fitz laughs, plugging the end of the lights into an extension cord.

Micah shrugs, smiling bashfully, laughing when Liv comes over to squeeze him.

"You are so _cute_ ," she growls playfully, pulling him into her lap, "Is that the one you want to put on first?"

"Yeah! It's so, _so_ shiny!"

"It is, huh? Did you know that you picked that one out when you were a little baby?"

"I picked it out when I was, umm, a baby?"

"Yup. Daddy and I didn't have _any_ ornaments for our tree, we only had lights. So, we went to the store to pick out some ornaments, and it was a big disaster. Lots of people found out we were going—"

"—people wanted to watch you? Like at the grocery store sometimes?"

Micah doesn't yet know why people recognize them, but at his age he's well aware that it happens often.

"—right, just like at the grocery store sometimes. Lots of people were watching us, and you were just a little baby, you were only six months old, and I really wanted to go home. But your Daddy convinced me to stay and pick out some ornaments. And when you saw this one, you smiled _so_ big, and you started to _laugh_ , you wanted it so much. So, we bought it!"

"Oh," Micah breathes, turning the snowman ornament over in his hands with a bemused smile on his face, looking up at Fitz who has been listening to the story, "Daddy, can we put it way up high?!"

"We can put it anywhere you want," Fitz grins, leaning down to pick him up, "Go ahead, we're all done with the lights. Now it's your turn!"

Ruby shrieks when they all stand up, _highly_ offended to have been left out. Liv scoops her up, making a face at the damp gingerbread man ornament.

"Wow, you really added a… _festive_ touch to this one didn't you?" she teases, dangling it between the tips of two fingers, "Do you want to put this one on? Watch big brother."

Ruby's eyes track over to watch Micah, seeing the way Fitz is helping him hang ornaments. She watches for a few seconds and then grabs the gingerbread man, thrusting it into the branches of the tree.

"Yay! Good job, bug, go pick another one," Liv cheers softly, setting her down near the pile of ornaments, discretely fixing the one she's already 'hung'.

It doesn't take long for her to get the idea, and after a moment she crawls back over with another ornament, raising her arms.

* * *

 _8:30pm…_

Fitz's eyes close as he lets the hot water run over his face, slicking his hair back, sighing deeply. Shampoo suds run out of his hair and over his shoulders, swirling thick and white around his feet and down the drain.

He jumps when two small hands wrap around his waist.

"Whoa—well, hello there," he smiles, eyes automatically trailing down his wife's naked body, "Is she down already?"

"They are _both_ sound asleep," Liv sighs, moving to stand in front of him, "I brought the monitor in here but I don't think we'll need it."

He hums softly, wrapping his arms around her, pressing himself against her back. She's pulled her hair up, exposing the tender, _impossibly_ sensitive skin at the back of her neck, and he can't resist nuzzling her there, biting gently. She sways in his arms, tipping her head to rest on his shoulder, guiding his hands to her breasts.

The first time she'd been a nursing mom, she hadn't had much of an issue sharing her breasts between nursing and sex. But this time, with _two_ kids demanding so much physical touch, she's had to put the brakes on more than once. Feeling 'touched out' was something she'd read about, but hadn't understood until her second baby. Nursing was initially so much more difficult the second time around, and even now that things have settled, ten whole months later…sometimes it feels like her body isn't her own, _ever_.

But most times, it simply doesn't seem to matter, and she can't _wait_ to have Fitz's hands on her.

Still, at this point he knows better than to touch her breasts without being invited. As soon as she prompts him, he cups them, weighing them in his palms.

"Mmm. Do they…are they bigger?"

She laughs softly, stretching her arms back and around his neck. "My supply has gone up a little bit, you're very observant. She's better than the pump, and we've been nursing way more, so… _oh_. That feels good."

His thumbs trace gently back and forth across her sensitive nipples, supporting her weight as she leans against him. He strokes back down her torso, palming her hips and then hugging her, chin over her shoulder.

"I love you," he sighs, kissing down her neck, "I had fun with you today."

She makes a soft, tender sound and turns, letting him press her into the shower wall. "It _was_ fun. I love you, too. C'mere, baby…want you. I've wanted you all day."

"You have?" he teases, grinning against her mouth.

He's making fun of her, completely aware of the way she's been looking at him.

"Would you just kiss me already? Why do you always have to— _mmm_ …"

He kisses the sassy expression from her face, slipping his tongue into her mouth. Her hands slide over his back, tracing the broad span of his shoulders, sagging against the wall as he draws their hips together. She moans softly when he kisses her neck again, nipping and sucking his way down to her breasts, gently teasing her nipples. He covers one with his mouth, tongue swirling gently.

" _Baby_ ," she sighs, fingers tangled in his hair.

She cries out when he suddenly sucks _hard_ , his big, warm mouth sending a shock of pleasure straight to her core. Moving to her other breast, he does it again, making her whimper, and moan, and _writhe_ in his arms. He only uses this little trick in the shower because it makes her leak milk, but it also makes her desperately aroused, frantic with need, and he _loves_ that.

"Oh my god, okay, _okay_ ," she whimpers after a few minutes, reaching down to palm his erection, "Need you— _fuck_ —"

He sucks one more time to make her curse, grinning around her nipple until she pulls his head away.

" _You_ ," she pants, giggling softly against his mouth, hand moving over him.

"What?" he murmurs, resting his forearms on either side of her, breath catching with each stroke of her hand.

Before she can answer he flips her around, using his whole palm to press her hips back into the cradle of his pelvis. Liv groans and braces her hands against the wall, lifting her right foot to rest on one of the built-in shelves.

It's his turn to curse as he steps close and presses inside of her, fingers sliding down to slowly rub her clit, making her clench around him.

"Fuck, you feel so good."

He pulls back and thrusts in again, moaning, listening to the way it makes her sigh. Palming her hips, he falls into a lazy rhythm, sucking kisses across the wet skin of her back.

" _Yes_ ," she moans, meeting his thrusts, gasping.

Every single time they make love—every single time—he's struck by how much he _loves_ doing this with her, how _grateful_ he is that they belong to each other.

There's not much time to dwell on that right now, though, because she's moving faster, thrusting her hips back harder, and he can feel his orgasm building. He happily gives her what she's asking for, burying his face in her neck as he pounds into her, groaning.

They come within a few seconds of each other, muscles fluttering and tensing, grinding and gasping together. He pulls out and she turns around, wrapping her arms around his neck, leaning back against the wall. Sleepy, sex-drunk eyes blink open as her breathing slows, and they share a smile, falling into a series of warm, wet kisses.

"Couldn't stop thinking about that. Wanted you so much," she murmurs, hand drifting down to stroke him absently, gently helping him clean up as they step into the spray of water.

He hisses and nuzzle his face into her neck. "Love you, Livvie."

She chuckles quietly, kissing his cheek, the shell of his ear. "All of this holiday cheer makes you such a sap."

Laughing, he bites her playfully, kissing his way back to her mouth. "Just so we're clear, I'm sappy _all_ the time, not just at Christmas time."

Liv hums, pulling him in for another kiss. "I love you, mister."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Yay, Christmas fluff! Going to keep these going, there will be at least 1 more around the 25th!**_


	70. The First Christmas in Vermont: III

_**Micah, 4.5 Years Old – Ruby, 10 Months Old**_

* * *

 _Christmas Eve…_

 _2pm…_

"What is this one supposed to be?"

Fitz turns around to look at the cookie cutter she's holding up. "It's a sleigh! You know, like Santa's sleigh?"

Liv squints her eyes skeptically, turning the metal ring over in her hands. "If you say so."

"Daddy, I wanna color trees!"

"Oh, did you find the Christmas tree one? Except we're not going to _color_ anything, we're going to _cut_ cookies. Well, we will color them, but not right now. I can't believe we've never done this before."

"I think he thinks we're going to use paper or something," Liv smiles, taking the bag of powdered sugar when he hands it to her, "What's this for? You made the dough last night."

"We need to sprinkle it on the table so nothing sticks."

"Oh. These are things that normal people already know, aren't they?" she sighs, opening the bag.

"We're as normal as we possibly can be," Fitz sympathizes, kissing her temple, "Okay bud, should we get started? I wish Ruby was awake."

Liv checks her watch. "She should be up soon, don't you think? Geez, she's been asleep a long time."

"What's this, Daddy?" Micah asks, patting the wrapped pieces of sugar cookie dough.

"Oh, you're going to really like this. We're gonna take this rolling pin, and make the dough really flat, like you do with your Play-Doh. And then, we'll take the cutters and make shapes. And then we bake them, and _eat_ them. They're cookies!"

At the mention of eating cookies, Micah's eyes light up. "We are gonna eat cookies?! Mommy, it's _cookies_."

"I _know_ ," she says excitedly, taking a sip of tea, "Are you excited?"

"Yeah!" he giggles, eyes glued to the dough Fitz is unwrapping, "Daddy can I do it?"

"Yup, you can do it. How about if I get it started, okay? It's kind of hard at first."

"I can help you!"

"Okay! Here, first we have to put some sugar down, put your hand in there—"

Liv makes a face. "Oh man, really? He's going to get—"

Fitz gives her a look and she stops, holding her tongue.

"Tell Mommy we'll clean up later, it's okay. Right, bud?"

Micah nods emphatically. "Yeah, Mommy, it's okay. We can clean it later."

"Okay, I know, you're right," she sighs, sitting back in her chair, smiling as she watches them together, "Mommy needs to chill out a little."

"That's good, now sprinkle the sugar out. Great job," Fitz nods, supervising as Micah drops a handful of powdered sugar onto the table, "Okay, now we roll it."

They get the ball of dough rolled out, slowly working it into an even layer.

"That looks pretty good, I think. Now, we take our cookie cutters—"

"I will use this one!" Micah exclaims, waving the Christmas tree around.

"Okay, perfect! Can I just show you one? Take it like this, and then you have to _push_ it down, and pull right back up."

Micah is immediately all business, focused on the task at hand.

"Great job, bud. Try to put them really close together. When we have lots cut out I'll show you how to pick them up. Mommy, you want to do some?" Fitz asks, grinning at her.

"Actually, I think I hear a little bug waking up," she says, tipping her head back to listen, "But save us some dough, I'm sure she'll want to try after she's more awake."

* * *

Ruby does _not_ wake up from naps easily, and she never has.

She's usually cranky, disoriented, weepy, clingy, and any number of other things for the first ten minutes or so. Once she's had some time to wake up she's back to normal, but they've learned to tread carefully before then.

Liv gently opens the door to Ruby's room, listening to her soft whimpers.

"Hi, bug," she says softly, making her way over to the crib, "Hey, you. Did you have a good nap?"

Ruby's sitting up, blinking slowly, fussing every few seconds. As soon as she sees Olivia she starts to cry a little, raising her arms.

"C'mere," Liv chuckles, lifting the baby into her arms, " _Shh_. _Shh_."

Cuddling Ruby against her shoulder, she sinks into the rocking chair, slowly rubbing her back.

"Take your time," she murmurs, letting Ruby shift around and get comfortable, "You took such a good nap. Yes, you did. Daddy and Micah are waiting for you, sweet girl, we're making some cookies for Santa."

Ruby goes through a few stages of waking up, nuzzling into her mommy's neck, laying her head on her shoulder, curling into a little ball, stretching back out, and finally decides she wants to nurse. She pulls at Liv's shirt, falling into her collarbone with an open mouth.

"Milk?" Liv asks softly, trying to work on better, easier ways for her to ask, "You'd better say 'mama' soon, but right after that you should learn 'milk', okay? That's kind of a key word."

Ruby hums, wiggling to lie down in Liv's arms, waiting while she peels all of her layers back.

"I know, Mommy has a few more layers, huh? It's _cold_ here!"

" _Oooh_ ," Ruby coos, imitating the 'o' sound in 'cold'.

" _Cold_ , that's right. Here, sweet girl."

She dives in with a happy sound, snuggling in close.

"There. Is that better? You just need your coffee to wake up, huh?" Liv smiles, affectionately stroking her curls.

* * *

"Look who's awake," she announces softly, still cuddling Ruby against her shoulder when they come out into the kitchen.

Fitz looks up excitedly, smiling at them. "Hi, baby girl. That was a _good_ nap."

"Oh, I bet Daddy would love some cuddles, what do you think? Want to go see Dada?"

Ruby thinks about it for a moment, eyeing Fitz when he offers his hands. After a moment, she leans toward him, reaching her arms out.

" _Dada_."

"C'mere, Ruby girl," he murmurs, folding her little body into his arms, snuggling her against his chest as he sits down at the table, "Big brother and I saved you some cookie dough. You can try in a couple minutes, okay? And you're right on time to decorate, maybe you and Mommy can do some together. You slept _hard_ , didn't you?"

"The harder she naps, the more grumpy she is," Liv muses, moving to stand behind Micah, "What's going on over here? These look _awesome_ , buddy."

Micah is transferring the cookies from the table to a baking sheet with _complete_ concentration. "Mommy do you, umm, are you gonna eat some with me?"

"Of course I will! I can't wait to taste one, you did such a good job. I think there's even more though, Daddy has all kinds of things to put on _top_ of the cookies."

Ruby finally decides she's officially awake and picks her head up, looking around.

"Hi, sweet pea, are we awake now?" Fitz asks, shifting her around.

She stares at him, brows furrowing when she notices the stubble on his jaw. With precision, one little finger extended, she touches it curiously, taking in the new sensation.

"Yeah, Dada's a little scratchy. Does that feel funny?" he grins, amused by the way she's concentrating, "Your brother makes that same face. Did you know that?"

He turns his head and pretends to bite her fingers, making her giggle and pull her hand away. She wraps her arm around his neck and puts her head on his shoulder, sighing. Fitz hugs her back, kissing her forehead.

"Aww, that's a nice hug," he murmurs, rubbing her back.

"She loves her Daddy," Liv coos, melting when she looks over and sees what's happening, "Daddy's the best, huh? He gives good hugs."

* * *

 _8:30pm…_

"Mommy?"

Olivia turns off Micah's light and crosses back over to his bed, sitting down next to him.

"What, baby?"

"Umm, Santa is gonna come here, right?" he asks sleepily, brows furrowed.

"Of course he is. He knows exactly where you are, don't worry."

"How?"

"He just knows," she smiles, grateful that these Santa questions are still relatively easy to answer, "He's _magic_."

"' _kay_ ," he mutters, fighting the pull of sleep.

"Goodnight, pumpkin," she whispers, leaning down to kiss his forehead, "I love you."

"Love you, Mommy. Mommy?"

"Hmm?"

"Make sure you, umm, make sure that you and Daddy don't have a fire. Because Santa might land in there and get burned up."

She snorts and stifles a laugh, stroking his curls. "Okay, I promise, we'll put the fire out. Go to sleep, pumpkin."

"' _kay_ …"

* * *

 _10:00pm…_

Fitz adjusts the train set one more time, standing back to look at it with a satisfied smile.

"Think he'll like it?"

Liv nods from the sofa, sipping peppermint tea, already having done her part to 'play Santa'. "He's going to _love_ it. It looks great."

"Okay," he says, still eyeing the pile of presents beneath the tree, hands in his pockets, "Maybe I should just—"

"Hey," she says quietly, eyes soft, "It's perfect. Come sit with me."

Sighing, he realizes he's nitpicking and joins her on the couch.

"There," she smiles, setting her tea down and cuddling into his side, "That's better."

Fitz presses a kiss into her hair and they're quiet for a little while, listening to the crackle and pop of the fire, enjoying the stillness.

"It's Ruby's first Christmas, and Micah really _gets_ it now, I just want it to be—"

"I know," she soothes, rubbing his chest, "You want it to be perfect. And it is. It's already been a wonderful Christmas, all of this time we've had together. You know that, don't you?"

"Maybe I forget, sometimes," he sighs, slouching down onto the couch a little more, "I just remember everything my holidays weren't, when I was their age. I want to do better for them."

"Oh, baby," she breathes, sitting up to face him, "You're already doing it. Look around, we're practically in a Christmas card right now."

He chuckles quietly, running the back of his finger down the bridge of her nose.

"When I think about my holidays growing up," she continues, getting a faraway look in her eyes, "They weren't completely nontraditional, we never struggled or anything like that. We always had presents, I mean, that wasn't an issue. But I think what was missing was…warmth. I never had warmth. Without that feeling, that _warm_ , safe feeling, the rest doesn't mean anything. And our kids already have that. Just…even watching you with Micah today, and when Ruby hugged you—"

She breaks off, looking down because there's a lump in her throat, suddenly.

Fitz squeezes her hand, blinking back the tears that are burning his eyes.

"You're right," he rasps, kissing her forehead, "We're doing _great_."

"We're doing _great_ ," she whispers, cradling his face, drawing him into a long kiss.

* * *

 **A/N: Happy Holidays y'all! Someone suggested cookie-baking in a review and I was like 'oh yeah! I DID want to do that!'. Still feeling inspired to write these and with time off right now I can! Stay tuned for more.**


	71. The First Christmas in Vermont: IV

_**Micah, 4.5 Years Old – Ruby, 10 Months Old**_

* * *

 _Christmas Day…_

 _12:30pm…_

"Do you think we should move him?" Olivia giggles, nodding to Micah.

He's fast asleep on the floor near the Christmas tree, body pillowed on his new giant stuffed turtle.

"Eh, I think we can leave him. I'm sure he's exhausted," Fitz grins.

"I'd be exhausted too if I woke my parents up at five-thirty in the morning. Oh wait—"

Fitz throws his head back with laughter, gently prying a bow from Ruby's mouth. "Sweet pea, you can play with it, but don't eat it."

She squirms off of his lap, crawling toward an empty box.

"Here's what we're gonna do," Fitz mutters, standing up.

He grabs the trash bag filled with wrapping paper and dumps it into the middle of the floor.

"Oh my gosh," Liv laughs, knowing exactly what's he's about to do.

He scoops Ruby up and plunks her down in the middle of the sea of shiny paper, crinkling a few pieces to show her.

Liv gasps when the baby looks at her in wonder. "Oh my goodness, what did Daddy get for you? What is all that?!"

She reaches for a piece and tears it, smile getting bigger each second.

"Dada!" Ruby shrieks, holding up fistfuls of wrapping paper.

"Yeah!" he laughs, crinkling some more and pushing it closer to her, "Go to town, baby girl."

"You were right, we should have gotten her wrapping paper."

"Well," he sighs, joining her on the couch, "Eventually we'll throw it away, and _then_ she'll notice her new toys."

Ruby's having the time of her life, ripping piece after piece of paper, crinkling it between her hands.

"Dada! Ah-ah-ah. Ah-ma. Ah-ma. Dada!"

Liv's smile falters imperceptibly, eyes warm and misty.

"She'll say it soon," Fitz murmurs, smiling gently.

"It's fine," she scoffs, brushing him off, "I didn't say anything."

He looks at her knowingly, reaching over to play with her hair.

"I mean, it makes sense," she sighs, watching Ruby rip sheets of paper apart, "You're with her all day now, since I'm back at work most of the time—"

"—Olivia Pope, I don't even want to hear that. That is _not_ why she's saying 'Dada'," he chuckles, shaking his head, "Listen to me, do you love your job?"

She sighs again, folding her legs beneath herself. "Yes, I do. But—"

"—but nothing, I'm not gonna let you go down that road. The second you stop loving your job, you tell me and we'll shift all of our finances around, and you can stay home, too. But unless that happens—"

"—okay, _okay_ , you're right. You're right. I just get caught up in feeling guilty sometimes."

"I know you do, but you don't need to. Our kids are obsessed with you, you're home _every_ single night, and all weekend long. You're their mom. She's saying 'Dada' because it's an easy sound to make, and we reward her by getting really excited when she says it. Okay?"

She doesn't look completely convinced, but she nods, smiling a little. "Okay."

* * *

 _12:50pm…_

Liv quietly closes the door to Ruby's room, listening for a moment to make sure her soft babbles aren't turning into cries. When she comes back out into the living room, she finds Fitz reclined on the couch, still covered in the sparkly bows Ruby stuck to him before her nap.

"You're so pretty," she giggles, glancing over to check on Micah, who is still sound asleep on the floor.

Fitz chuckles, reaching for her. "Did she go down?"

"Nope," she yawns, sinking down beside him, "But I think she will. She's in there talking to herself, but she's tired."

"Oh, good."

"You going to clean up all this paper?" she asks, raising her eyebrows.

"I'm too pretty to work, you said it yourself."

She dissolves into laughter, climbing into his arms, straddling his hips. Slowly, she lowers her body, deliberately placing her forearms on either side of his head. His hands automatically touch her, sliding over her hips and thighs, cupping her butt and resting there.

"Did you have a nice Christmas?" he murmurs, eyes drooping at the feel of her soft, full breasts pressed against his chest.

She hums, kissing him softly. "The nicest."

He smiles into their next kiss, letting her tongue in to dance with his. Sighing, she lets her hands come down to play with his hair, sucking on his bottom lip. A second later she bites him, nipping, using her tongue to soothe the sting.

" _Mrs. Grant_ —"

" _Shhh_ ," she teases, laughing softly when he pretends to be scandalized.

"You're in a _mood_ ," he grins, squeezing her behind.

"Well, when you're doing sexy things, like letting our baby cover you in Christmas bows, I can't help it. Makes me hot for you," she whispers against his mouth, smiling as she brushes their lips together.

Fitz growls softly, tipping his face up to ask for more. They fall into kissing each other, trying not to get too carried away and failing miserably. She can't help but rock her hips down, moaning a little when he pulls her thighs forward, opening her hips more. Gently pulling his hair, she nudges his face toward the back of the couch and breathes over his ear, flicking her tongue against the lobe, drawing it into her mouth.

"Hey, guys?"

They both gasp, startling so hard that Fitz has to grab her around the waist so she doesn't fall onto the floor.

"Hi, bud!" Liv breathes, trying to catch her breath, immediately sitting up straight, "Did you have a good nap?"

Fitz's hands tighten around her waist, squeezing hard, eyes slamming shut.

"What are you doing?" Micah asks innocently, tipping his head curiously.

"We were, umm—Daddy and I were just—" she struggles for a moment, painfully aware of the way Fitz is gritting his teeth as she inadvertently puts pressure on his erection, "We were—well, we were kissing."

"Oh," Micah chirps, leaning on the couch, hopping, "Why?"

"Why?" she asks, eyes widening.

"Yeah, why you were, umm, why were you wrestling?"

"Well, we weren't wrestling, per se, we were just—we were—"

Fitz finally gains enough composure to sit up and move her out of his lap. "Mommy and I were just showing each other how much we love each other. It's a special thing that you do when you're a grown up. Okay?"

"Oh, okay. Daddy, do you want to play trains?!"

"I sure do!" Fitz exclaims, immensely relieved to have ended the conversation, "Do you want me to help you put the bridge part together?"

"Yeah!"

* * *

 _3:00pm…_

" _dee-dee-dee_ … _dee-dee_ …"

"Dee-dee-dee," Liv echoes, smiling at Ruby's nonsensical babbling, watching her little hands play with the top of her new Glo Worm's hat, "Do you like him, bug? His name is Glo Worm."

They've cleaned up all the wrapping paper and, as predicted, the handful of new toys under the tree for Ruby have finally caught her attention.

"Ah!" she breathes, lifting the toy to her mouth, chomping down on part of his hat, "Mmmmmm-ma."

"Oh, I bet that's yummy."

"Mommy, watch!"

Liv turns just in time to watch Micah's new train successfully cross a raised bridge. "Whoa! Very cool, bud."

"Dad can we open these, now?" he asks, starting to drag his new box of Lincoln Logs over.

"Sure," Fitz grins, helping him, "You're going to love these, they're so fun."

"Yeah, they're so fun," Micah giggles happily, starting to rip at the box.

Fitz laughs, running his fingers under the seam on the box. "You haven't even played with them. Wait a minute, let's not tear this in half."

* * *

An hour later, they've constructed an elaborate camp site of log cabins, complete with a main lodge. Even Liv has gotten in on the action, with Ruby engrossed in her new activity cube several feet away.

"Do you see another roof piece over there?" she asks, sliding another cabin into the circle.

Micah looks through the pile of plastic pieces and comes up with a roof. "Here, Mommy. It can go right here!"

"Okay, that's a great spot."

Ruby crawls over, little hands landing on Olivia's thigh.

"Hi, bug. Do you want some logs, too?" she offers, watching the baby perch on her knees, and then plant one foot on the ground.

Liv offers her arm for Ruby to grab, and she pulls up easily, taking a couple steps over to hang onto her shoulder instead.

"No, you want to stand up, instead? Oh, you like Mama's sweater."

For unknown reasons, Ruby is fascinated with anything cable-knit, always running a tiny finger along the pattern, squeezing the chunky material in her fists.

" _Ah_ … _ah_ … _hmm_ …"

"She likes that big cube, don't you think?" Fitz asks, starting to add another wing to the lodge.

"Absolutely. And I think with time she'll explore it more and more, she's obsessed with the beads so far."

"Daddy! I'm gonna put a window in that one."

"Oh, okay, cool. Then the people can look outside and see—what do you think they'll see? Is it snowing there?"

"Yeah," Micah nods, carefully balancing a window on top of the log, reaching for the smaller pieces to stack on either side, "It snows there, too, like our Christmas cabin."

"Perfect."

" _Mama_."

Olivia and Fitz stop and turn to stare at Ruby, who is pointing out the window. They stare at each other in silence for a few seconds, mouths open.

"What did she say? Did you hear her say 'mama'?" Liv asks, looking between him and the baby with wide eyes, "Did you hear that? Did she say that?"

"I think so," Fitz grins, "I think she said it."

"What, bug? What?"

Ruby bounces a little, looking back to get Liv's attention, and then pointing to the window again. "Ah! Mama."

This time they both laugh, because it's clear as a bell.

"What, baby, I'm listening," Liv giggles, leaning in to kiss her cheek, "Oh, did you hear us talking about the snow? Yes, it's snowing outside!"

" _Ooooh_ ," Ruby breathes, looking at her with fascination.

"Ruby, where's Mommy? Where's Mama?" Fitz asks her excitedly, crawling closer.

Ruby immediately looks at Olivia, turning around to hold her shoulder with both hands again, grinning happily.

"There she is, that's right! Who is this?" he asks again, tapping Liv, "Is this Mama?"

She walks around, bracing herself on Liv's chest. "Mama!"

"Yay!" Olivia laughs, picking Ruby up and falling onto her back, "You little stinker, I knew you could say it. You just had to be good and ready, huh?"

"Mama!"

Ruby squeals as she's held up high, wiggling and laughing when Liv lowers her close for a kiss, and then swoops her up high again. She sits up, cuddling the baby in her arms, kissing her cheek.

"Oh, best Christmas present ever, my love. Best one, _ever_."

* * *

 **A/N: I think I'm gonna do a New Years one. These are too much fun, lol.**


	72. The First Dry Spell

**Micah, 6 Years Old – Ruby, 2.5 Years Old**

* * *

Olivia breezes through the front door in a hurry, immediately listening to gauge how far into the bedtime routine Fitz is. Gently pushing the front door closed, she flips the lock and toes her heels off, listening for splashing, or the low murmur of her husband's voice as he reads a story.

But it's quiet, and she's instantly flooded with guilt.

She's missed it.

Leaning against the wall, she scrubs a hand over her face, annoyed with herself. Missing bedtime is _not_ something she takes lightly, and it's happened more times than she's comfortable with lately. Business has picked up over the past few months, and it's all she can do to juggle everything.

She turns the hall light off and heads upstairs, pausing outside Micah's room. Trying not to make any noise, she gently pushes his door open and tiptoes across to his bed. She knows he hasn't been asleep for very long, but she leans down to kiss his forehead anyway. He stirs, and bleary brown eyes blink up at her.

"Mom?"

"Hi," she whispers, stroking his curls, "Go back to sleep, baby. I just wanted to say goodnight."

"' _kay_. G'night, Mommy," he mumbles, rolling toward her, hugging his turtle a little tighter.

He's only calling her 'mommy' about half the time now, and she's savoring every single one.

"Night, baby. I love you," she murmurs, kissing his forehead one more time.

Continuing on down the hallway, she opens Ruby's door, not at all concerned about waking her. Ruby's sprawled on her back in the crib, deep belly breaths indicating that she's far away, lost in dreamland. Her daughter sleeps like the dead, and it makes her smile, reminds her of the way Fitz sleeps. Pressing a kiss to her fingertips, she reaches into the crib and brushes them over Ruby's forehead.

"Night-night, little bug. Love you," she whispers, pulling the blanket back over her toddler's bare feet.

Back out in the hallway, she sighs, preparing to say goodnight to the last person in their house; and he isn't likely to greet her as sweetly as their sleeping children.

As predicted, Fitz is in bed reading, glasses perched toward the end of his nose. He glances up when she comes in, and then looks back down without saying anything. He doesn't look angry, just tired, and her heart sinks when he ignores her.

"I'm sorry," she says softly, standing in the middle of their bedroom, "I'm sorry I'm so late."

"You missed bedtime again."

"I know, I'm—"

"You said by seven."

"I know I did, I'm sorry," she says again, coming to sit on the bed beside him, "We had a break in the case, and I got pulled into something with Huck, and I spent half my time telling him to _stop_ explaining things and to just give me the information but, he can be long-winded, and he gets so excited, and he doesn't really have anyone else to talk to, so sometimes I just let him go and—did I mention that I'm sorry?"

He stares at her for a moment, and then his mouth twitches into a half smirk. "It's your job. It's alright."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he sighs, closing his book, taking off his glasses, "But you'd better say goodnight now, because I'm gonna be asleep before you finish washing your face."

"I'll tuck you in, too," she murmurs, pulling the blankets up around his shoulders, "Goodnight, mister."

Fitz hums, tilting his face up for a kiss.

* * *

 _ **A few days later…**_

"Ruby, it's bedtime. It's time to go night-night."

"No, Mommy," Ruby sobs, arms squeezed tightly around her neck, "No nigh-nigh. No nigh-nigh."

"Yes," Liv say softly, rubbing her back, "I'm not sure why this is a surprise, we go night-night at the same time, every night. What's going on, huh? You love your crib."

Ruby just hiccups and sobs a few more times, clinging to her. "Mommy. Mommy."

"What's wrong? Can you tell me? What do you want, love? I know you're tired. But you don't want another story, you pushed the book away. Do you just want to snuggle? Hmm?"

"Mommy, stay here. Here, Mommy."

"Oh, I can't stay here. Mommy has her own bed. Just like Ruby has her crib."

"No, Mommy."

"You need to go to sleep, okay, bug? I love you. I'll see you in the morning," she soothes, pressing a kiss to her temple.

" _Mommy_."

Ruby cries as she's lowered into her crib, immediately standing up to hang on to the rail. Liv's heart shatters into a million pieces, but she steels herself, knowing she has to try a little bit of tough love. Stepping into the hallway, she closes the door and leans against the opposite wall, closing her eyes.

"Hey," Fitz says softly, coming out of their bedroom, "What's going on?"

Liv shakes her head. "I don't know. She doesn't want to go to sleep, but she's exhausted, it's an hour past her bedtime already. I can't tell if something's wrong, or if she's just testing me."

"Okay, well let's give her five minutes and see," he shrugs, trying to soothe her nerves, "We won't know unless we try. Okay?"

She nods tightly, jaw clenched. There's nothing she hates more than listening to her babies cry, and he knows that.

Wrapping his arm around her, he checks his watch. "Five minutes, just breathe. She's okay."

She nods again, letting him rub her back.

Five excruciating minutes later, Fitz shows her his watch. "What do you think?"

"I think she needs me. I'm not sure why, but—"

"—go ahead, Liv, you don't have to justify yourself to me. I trust you."

She immediately moves to go back into Ruby's room, overwhelmed with guilt at the sight of her miserable toddler.

" _Mommy_."

"Okay, bug, okay. C'mere," she murmurs, lifting her from the crib, " _Shhh. Shhh_."

As soon as she sinks into the rocking chair, Ruby's cries drop off, the threat of her mommy leaving gone for the time being.

" _Shhh_. You're okay. Calm down."

Another five minutes go by, and Ruby's finally calm, starting to drift off against her shoulder. She whimpers and sniffles, rubbing her face into Liv's shirt.

"Owie."

"Owie?" Liv repeats, looking down at her, both concerned and relieved, "Where's the owie? What hurts, baby?"

"Owie," Ruby whimpers again, sitting up in her lap.

Liv imitates her sad face, brows furrowing in concern. "Tell me. Show Mommy, where's the owie?"

She rubs her cheek and then points to it, starting to cry again. "Owie. Mommy."

" _Oh_ ," Liv breathes, cuddling her close again, "Are you getting a new tooth? Hey, Fitz?"

She calls for Fitz as quietly as she can, trying not to wake Micah, and he appears moments later.

"Hey, sweet pea," he says softly, "How's it going in here?"

"I think she's getting a two-year-old molar. She just told me her cheek was 'owie'."

" _Oh_ , man. Why didn't we think of that?"

"See if you can feel anything. Bug, can Daddy look in your mouth?"

After much protesting and biting, Fitz finally gets his finger in far enough to feel around. "Oh, yeah. I'm sorry baby girl, I feel it back there. That hurts, huh? Those molars are _big_. Want me to grab some Tylenol?"

"Yeah. Poor little bug," Liv sighs, rubbing Ruby's back to settle her again, "Let's go lay in Mommy and Daddy's bed, okay? How about that?"

* * *

 _ **A few days after that…**_

"I _can't_."

"You can too," Fitz chuckles, in between bites of dinner, "It's just counting. You've been counting for years already."

Micah's being stubborn.

Some nights even one page of homework is too much for him, especially if they don't get to it until later in the evening. But it's nearly impossible for Fitz to help him if Ruby's not entertained somehow, a task which is _also_ nearly impossible without help.

"I know, bud, it's better when we do this earlier. But we had to wait for Mommy to get home and play with Ruby, otherwise she makes too much noise. Right?"

On cue, shrieking and splashing echo down the stairs from the kids' bathroom.

"She likes to scream," Micah nods matter-of-factly, fidgeting in his chair.

"Right. And listen, having homework is tough sometimes. But this page is super easy for you. So how about if we concentrate for a little bit, finish it up quickly, and then we can play before bed?"

"I _am_ good at counting," Micah sighs, picking up his pencil.

"You _are!_ So, let's see this first one. Oh, it's almost insulting to your intelligence. How many flowers?"

Micah rolls his eyes, smiling in spite of himself. "Three."

"Easy. Too easy. Next!"

They joke their way through the worksheet while Fitz finishes eating, having fed the kids first to stave off any hunger-related riots.

"Done!" Micah announces triumphantly, slamming his pencil down.

Fitz grins, raising his hand for a high five. "Excellent. Now, here are your options. You can do bath, then play, then story, then bed. Or, we can play, _then_ bath, then story, then bed."

He thinks for a moment, contemplating the sequence of events. "Umm, I want to do _shower_ , and then play, and then story, and then bed."

"Ah," Fitz nods, clearing his plate, "You want to take a shower in Mom and Dad's bathroom?"

"Yup," Micah confirms, hopping out of his chair.

"Well, I think you've earned it, after all of that counting."

They've been letting him shower by himself lately, but only in their glass-walled shower stall where it's easier to supervise any mischief.

"Alright, lead the way."

They troop up the stairs just as Liv and Ruby are coming down the hallway. Fitz's heart melts at the sight of his baby girl wrapped in a bear towel, complete with little ears.

"Daddy, hi!"

"Oh, wow. Who actually took a bath?" he teases, laying his palm on her back.

Olivia's shirt and pants are damp, clearly splashed with water.

"She got pretty excited in there," Liv smiles, leaning in to smooch her cheek, "But you didn't get Mommy's hair wet, that's the important part."

"Spash. _Spash_!"

"Yeah, you splashed. And what else was in your bath? Bubbles?"

"Bubble. Pop!"

Ruby yawns spectacularly, fighting to free her hands from the towel and then rubbing her eyes.

"Now it's time for night-night, huh?"

"Read it? Mommy?"

"Right, we're going to read first though. Tell Daddy night-night."

"Nigh-nigh Daddy."

They both startle at the sound of their shower turning on.

"He's way ahead of me, clearly," Fitz smiles, leaning in to kiss her cheek, "See you in a few?"

They're passing ships on nights like this, handling two separate bedtime routines. Liv hums, leaning in to kiss him softly.

* * *

Later, with Micah tucked in for the night, Fitz closes his door and goes in search of her.

He's on the verge of calling her name when he finds her already on their bed, passed out cold.

Sighing, he flips the lights off and covers her with a blanket, leaning down to kiss her temple.

* * *

 _ **A few days after THAT…**_

This time, she's so late that she doesn't even bother listening for bedtime sounds.

She can hear Fitz in the kitchen, and she closes her eyes, steeling herself before she goes to greet him. He's loading the dishwasher somewhat violently, and she winces at the clang of a metal pot.

"Fitz—"

"—whatever excuse you're about to make, I'm really not in the mood," he sighs, closing the dishwasher, "There's a plate for you in the fridge if you're hungry."

Her mouth drops open when he breezes past her, going upstairs without another word, and she immediately turns to follow him. The knot that's been forming in her stomach tightens uncomfortably, and she swallows hard, shaking her head.

He ignores her until they're in the bedroom, waiting until she closes the door.

"You left your curling iron on this morning. I could've burned myself," he throws out, saying it as though she'd left food cooking on the stove.

"Okay…" she says slowly, brows furrowing, " _Did_ you burn yourself?"

"No, but I could have. I hate when you leave it on like that."

"I'm—"

"You left your tea bag in the sink, too."

"Are you _serious_ , right now?"

"If I have to throw away one more soggy tea bag—"

"Fitz, I'm _sorry_ , okay? I'm so confused, you're yelling at me because you _didn't_ burn yourself—"

"That's not the point. You're distracted."

"And you're picking a fight with me over _nothing_. I could think of a million little things that you do that annoy me, but we've never fought about things like that. Why don't we talk about why you're actually angry—"

"Do you know how long it's been since we've had sex?"

She blinks, completely caught off guard. "I—what? No, but it hasn't been that long, we…well, we—"

Olivia stops, thinking.

 _How long_ _ **has**_ _it been?_

"It's been over _two months_ ," Fitz breathes, leaning forward for emphasis.

"No it hasn't!" she gasps, shocked, "That's ridiculous. It just hasn't worked out for a couple of weeks but we—the last time was when we—"

She breaks off again, frantically trying to remember the last time they'd made love. Her breath catches when she realizes that she _can't_. Whenever it was, it'd felt so ordinary, so taken for granted that she actually can't remember it.

Had it been in the shower?

In their bed?

On the couch?

Slowly, she sinks down onto the bed, watching while he crosses the room to join her.

"Has it really been that long?" she asks softly, staring across the room.

"The last time," he sighs, twisting his wedding band, "Was right around the fourth of July, when both of the kids had that virus. They slept late that one morning, both of them, and we—"

"— _right_. We didn't know how much time we had so we started with a quickie and then…kept messing around until they woke up," she breathes, smiling a little when she remembers.

It makes him smile too, and he reaches for her hand, taking a deep breath.

"We've never had a dry spell before," she states unnecessarily, still shocked.

Fitz scoffs. "No, we haven't."

They're quiet for a moment, in completely unfamiliar territory.

"I can't believe it's been that long," Liv says softly, "I didn't—it wasn't on purpose."

He slumps a little, all of his anger fading away. "Oh, Liv, I know."

"I knew things felt a little…strained. But I just—things have been so crazy—"

"—it's no one's fault. I'm sorry, I'm not blaming you," he soothes, "I only pointed it out because—we haven't been connecting lately. And that's on _both_ of us. I think we've just been…tired? Busy? Running around after two kids?"

"I think you're right. And maybe, subconsciously…"

She trails off, shaking her head, looking down at her lap.

"What?" he nudges, after a moment.

Sighing, she lifts her eyes to his. "We _are_ busy and tired. But, I also haven't felt very sexy, lately."

" _What?_ " he breathes, brows furrowing, "Why?"

"When I finally stopped nursing Ruby, I—I gained some weight back, which I've read is completely normal for some women. But, it didn't happen with Micah, and I'm just—I'm uncomfortable. I don't feel like me."

"That's why you've been working so much," Fitz realizes, mouth slightly open.

As soon as he says it the pieces click together for her, too. As usual, he knows her better than she knows herself.

"I'm good at my job," she says quietly, nodding, "And I think…I've needed the confidence boost."

"Liv," he sighs, scrubbing his hands over his face.

"I _know_ —"

"I thought you were experiencing this—this re-awakening of your professional self, finally being done with nursing, having your body all to yourself again, getting back in touch with who you were before you became a mom, trying to reconcile those two phases of your life—"

He stops, because she's staring at him incredulously.

"I feel _very_ guilty that I haven't thought about this as much as you have."

Fitz stares at her for a second, watching her mouth twitch, and then they both start to laugh. It feels _good_ to laugh, so they let it run its course, giggling together to release some tension.

"I'm sorry," she breathes, sobering, "I should've talked to you, I don't know why I didn't. I don't even think I really realized what was going on. I actually think you're partly right, it _has_ been nice to have more freedom, even though I loved nursing."

"There are two of us in this marriage, it's not just you. We're just in this haze of being perpetually tired, and trying to keep up with them, and the house, and everything else. And I—"

Fitz shrugs, turning to face her.

"—I've actually never been in a healthy marriage before. So, it's almost like we're _both_ new at this, and I—I don't know if this kind of thing is normal, I guess it probably is. But I don't want to go months without touching you, that doesn't feel normal to me—"

"No," she says, eyes widening, "I don't want that either."

"So, how do we fix it?"

It's such a big question, and she pauses, turning it over in her mind.

"I—by the time I come home," she starts slowly, "Now that Ruby's running us ragged, and Micah has _homework_ already—I get so caught up in making sure I spend enough time with them at night, that—"

Her words choke her, momentarily, and she looks nervous to let the thought out.

"It's hard for you to focus on me?" he finishes for her, smiling sympathetically.

" _Yes_ ," she breathes, relieved.

"I get that, I feel that way, too. I'm _exhausted_ , most days."

"That's terrible though, how did we let that happen?"

"Maybe it's kind of a good thing. We're secure enough to start taking each other for granted."

"Are you making a joke right now?" she asks, narrowing her eyes at him, "We haven't had sex in two months. _You_ and _me_ , have not had sex, that's funny to you?"

He chuckles at her horror, reaching out to rub her back. "We've never had to do this before! We're learning as we go along, I think that's okay. But we _do_ need to talk about it."

"Maybe we should make a schedule?"

Fitz makes a face. "I don't know if I want to schedule sex with you. I mean it's practical, but—listen, for me, it's about the quality, not the quantity."

"The quality..." she says slowly, brows furrowing, "Is it not—are you not happy?"

"Of course I am!" he says immediately, "That's not what I meant, I just—I want time with you. _We need some_ _time_ , Liv. If all we have time for right now is once a week, that's fine, but I want to lay you out on the bed and kiss you for a while before we take our clothes off. I want to take my time touching you, and turning you on, because as much as I love—and I do mean, _love_ —being inside of you—"

She blushes and laughs a little, because she'll _never_ get used to the things he says to her.

"—I'm not gonna be satisfied if that's all we do. I need the other stuff too."

"I do too," she whispers, nodding, "And—since the kids were born…we haven't really done that, have we? Taken our time."

"Not enough," he murmurs, reaching out to cradle her cheek, "It's not something we can do that often here, and you haven't been ready to leave them, which is—I love that, I love how much you love being their mom. But…I miss you."

Her eyes fill with tears at that. "I miss you, too. I didn't realize how much. Why haven't you said anything? How long have you been feeling like this?"

"I don't know, I guess…I felt selfish, bringing it up. Up until the last few months we've been having sex when we can, it's not like it's been years. I _love_ being with you, it's not that at all. And I wanted to be sensitive to your feelings, after the kids were born, and while you were nursing. I have no idea what that's like. But lately we've barely even been talking—"

"I feel it too. The disconnect," she admits, reaching out to touch him, running her hands over his arms, "I just didn't know what it was. You're better at getting to the root of the issue, which is why you have to _talk_ to me."

He shrugs, looking down. "Part of me feels like, maybe, this is the stage of life we're in. We have young kids, we're busy…maybe my expectations are too high, I don't want you to feel like I'm pushing you—"

"No," she says softly, firmly, looking into his eyes, "Your expectations for our marriage are not too high. We're _extraordinary_. And we can do better."

A slow smile spreads across his face, and he closes the distance between them, pulling her into a kiss. She wraps her arms around his neck and lets him pull her into his lap, sighing.

"Lets go to the cabin this weekend," she whispers, playing with the curls at his nape.

"Really?" he breathes, hugging her close, "Can we get that all figured out?"

She sobers, cradling his jaw. "I think we need to make it happen, don't you? When we built it we always talked about using it for some alone time, but we haven't. We could go, have time to talk...and _not_ talk."

"We do need to make it happen," he nods, "We will."

"It's only Monday, there's plenty of time."

"Is Abby free to watch the kids?"

"She doesn't know it yet, but she is," Liv giggles, rocking a little in his lap.

His breath catches, and he chases her mouth, groaning into another kiss.

" _Mommy!_ "

"Oh no. Why is she awake?" Liv whimpers, dropping her forehead to his shoulder, "I don't understand it, why is she _always_ awake? Doesn't she know that I desperately need to have sex with her father? Oh my god I'm so tired."

" _Shhh_ ," he chuckles, rubbing her back, "It's okay, Livvie, five more days."

* * *

 ** _Five days later…_**

"Did Abby text you back?" Fitz asks, hand on her lower back as they walk up the path to the cabin.

"Yes, she said the kids are fine, to stop texting her, and to not do anything she wouldn't do."

He snorts. " _That's_ a short list."

"Be nice," she giggles, swinging her hand out to smack him in the chest.

He grabs her hand and turns her, settling her back against the front door. She hums quietly when he kisses her slowly, reaching up to thread her fingers through his hair. Pulling in a long breath through her nose, she sighs, listening to the crickets, noting the slight chill in the air; the first signs of fall making themselves known after the sun has gone down.

"Lets go in," she whispers, nuzzling her nose against his.

Refusing to let go of her, he turns her around in his arms, holding her close while she unlocks the door.

* * *

They separate long enough to give the cabin a once-over; unloading a couple days' worth of groceries, opening windows, stashing luggage in their bedroom.

Fitz decants a bottle of red wine, leaving it to breathe, and then goes in search of her. She's unzipping their suitcase when he comes in, smiling when he pulls her into his arms.

"So," he murmurs, looping his arms around her waist, "What should we do first?"

"I don't know," she grins, hands stroking across his back, "We could take a nap. Or have some dinner. We could catch up on some television."

He nods along as if he's seriously considering each option.

"Or…"

Her breath catches when he nuzzles her cheek, hands sliding the length of her torso, teeth finding her earlobe. As soon as she's relaxed, completely focused on him, the full weight of their dry spell slams into her and she can't _breathe_ , she needs him so badly.

" _Fitz_. Let's just go to bed."

He hums in agreement, trailing warm, wet kisses down her throat.

"Wait, wait," she whispers, pulling his mouth from her neck, "I need five minutes."

" _Why?_ " he pouts, hands wandering beneath the hem of her shirt.

"Because, I want to put on something pretty."

"You're already beautiful," he murmurs, pressing their hips together, kissing her again, "And sexy… _so_ sexy—"

She sighs, carding her fingers through his hair. "— _Fitz_. I appreciate that, but—five minutes. Please?"

Everything she'd told him about not feeling confident comes rushing back, and he instantly understands that this is for her as much as him, if not more. He smiles, eyeing her with warm, dark eyes, holding up his hands in surrender and taking a taking a step back. Reaching out to cradle his jaw in both hands, she closes the distance between them, pressing one more kiss to his mouth.

"I'll be quick. Promise. Go get comfortable."

Fitz watches her fish around in their suitcase for a small bag, kicking off his shoes as she disappears into the bathroom with a wink. He dims the lights a little, and then stretches out on the bed, fidgeting impatiently.

True to her word, it's only five minutes before she comes back out. He takes one look at her and sits up, swallowing thickly.

She's wearing a satin slip he's never seen before, the color of red wine, with delicate little straps. It stops mid-thigh, and his eyes drag up over the bodice, landing on her breasts. The top is sheer, clinging, her dark chocolate nipples completely visible through the fabric.

"Wow," he croaks, reaching for her, "You look—wow."

She smiles, already breathless with the way he's looking at her, closing her eyes as his hands cup the back of her thighs. He pulls her in close, nuzzling his face into her tummy when her hands slide into his hair, breathing her in. His fingers slide around to grip her inner thighs, and she holds her breath as they slowly move up, up, _up_ …and then down, away—

"Baby," she breathes, chest heaving softly.

The last cerebral thought she has is that _this_ is what they've been missing. _This_ is what they've needed for months.

* * *

After that, their evening is a beautiful, _wonderful_ blur.

It's long minutes of _hands_ ; moving over every inch of each other, feeling her warm skin through the satin, stroking over her thighs, guiding them around his hips, pulling them apart; clutching the muscles of his back, nails scratching over his biceps, pulling his hair—

—and then _mouths_ ; licking and sucking, teeth scraping and nipping; settling between her thighs to make her writhe and cry out, teasing her clit while she moans and pulls at the sheets; breathing over his ears, down his neck, around his cock, taking him in and out until he growls and pulls her away.

It's kissing until their lips are tingling, until they can't breathe...

Sighing, moaning, gasping, whispering...

"… _more…"_

"… _there…"_

"… _oh…oh…ungh…"_

"… _please don't stop…"_

They don't still until he's inside of her, until her thigh is curved over his forearm, until her hands bring him down into a long kiss.

"I missed you," she whispers, moaning softly into his mouth when he thrusts forward, "Love you. Missed you—"

He makes a low, strained sound and buries his face in her neck. "I love you, too. _Livvie_."

And then they're moving again, rising and falling together, slow and fast and everything in between. She closes her eyes and focuses on the way he feels, the noises he makes when she squeezes her muscles around him, the way heat is coiling in her lower belly.

He slips a hand between them to rub her clit and her hips jump, nails digging into his lower back. Humming with satisfaction, he finds the angle that makes her whimper and stays there, groaning when she flushes hot, surrounds him with another rush of wetness.

Purposefully, he holds back and watches her come first, soaking in every moan and gasp, making sure she's _completely_ sated before he lets go.

* * *

He settles between her thighs as they come down, head pillowed on her chest while her fingers stroke through his hair over and over.

"I'm glad we had a dry spell," she murmurs.

Fitz hums, grinning against her breast. "You are?"

"If we hadn't, we couldn't learn from it. Not to take each other for granted. To put in the work."

"I like that. You're right," he sighs, "But let's not do it again. Deal?"

She giggles softly, burying her nose in his hair.

"Deal."

* * *

 **A/N: This is another one I've had cooking in my head for a while. Hope you guys enjoyed it!**


	73. Back To You

_**A/N: 7x08 post-ep**_

* * *

She's _not_ the same person.

The woman he's kissing feels like Liv, and sounds like Liv, but she's not the same person. He's more sure of that now than he was weeks ago when he'd first arrived, and it throws him off, makes him uneasy.

It's the first time he's ever felt like he doesn't know her, and it's disconcerting.

It makes him falter and second guess himself at every step, so much that he has to disengage his brain and rely on muscle memory. Their bodies remember each other, and for the first few minutes they lead the way; mindlessly peeling clothes off, falling into the slant of familiar kisses.

But she's tired.

It's the one thing he can see in her eyes, feel in her body, that she's so, _so_ , tired. When he lifts her off the sideboard, her slim, petite body is heavy in his arms, and now his brain is involved again, getting in the way, pulling his focus. Their kisses slow as he carries her into his bedroom, setting her on the side of the bed, kneeling in front of her.

He _wants_ to help her, he _wants_ to know her, but…he doesn't.

Not right now.

As he looks up at her the heat fizzles, and maybe they're more in sync than he'd realized because she doesn't try to pull him in close again, she just stares down at her lap, fingers against her mouth.

The moment is reminiscent of when she'd first come to him, silent, devastated, lost; and it makes him _ache_ for her. He could climb over her, kiss her, get naked with her, let her bury herself in it, bury himself in _her_ , get lost in the mechanics of great sex.

He could.

But that's not what they do. That's not them.

"Are you okay?"

Fitz almost bursts into laughter, because _she's_ asking _him_ if he's okay. He looks up at her, still wearing her bra and pants, and shakes his head.

"No," he answers honestly, hands on her thighs, "I'm not."

She nods slowly, still not looking at him. "I can go."

But he knows she won't leave, and even when he doesn't immediately beg her to stay she doesn't move, still staring at her lap. Her hands are shaking, he notices for the first time, and he automatically takes them between his.

Instinct.

They're silent while he warms her hands, watching the way it makes her whole body relax, wondering if she realizes.

"You hurt my feelings," he confesses, softly.

It's something a child would say, but it doesn't sound childish.

It makes her eyes burn with tears, because she _knows_ , and when she sees the pure, honest hurt on his face her chest aches.

"I know," Liv whispers, lips trembling, hot tears finally escaping and sliding over her cheeks.

"And I don't—I don't know why. You yell at me all the time," he muses, brows furrowed, "I guess, normally I justify it to myself but this—you hurt me."

Her eyes squeeze closed with emotion, and her chest hitches with a sob. "I know."

"I didn't—I wasn't out of bounds, Liv."

"I know."

He ducks down, trying to catch her gaze. " _I love you_ , dammit. I love you."

"I _know_ ," she sobs, squeezing his hands.

"Well, if you know all of that, why did you do it?"

Pushing her like this is completely unnecessary, because he knows why. He knows that he's the one person she knows she won't push away, the one person who will always be there to catch her. He knows that she's trying to grieve, and she doesn't know how, that she's lashing out because her heart is so badly broken.

She doesn't answer him, because she can't, but he _wants_ an answer, he _deserves_ one this time. He needs _more_ from her.

"Why did you come here?" he asks softly, shaking his head.

Olivia stares down at their hands, breathing slowly. She opens her mouth to speak, and then closes it again, and he watches her struggle for a few minutes. Finally, she looks up, looking into his eyes.

"I'm really… _sad_ ," she breathes, voice cracking, "And I wanted my friend. My _best_ friend."

It's not an apology, but it's close. Closer than she normally gets.

"Yeah?" he asks, tipping his head sadly.

She nods, the regret written all over her face, the apology reflected in her eyes. He gets up and sits beside her on the bed, wrapping his arm around her, letting her cuddle into his neck. Her breath is warm on his skin, and he lets the sensation kindle heat in his belly, starting to relax into her.

"I wanted you," she confesses, turning to wrap her arms around his neck.

He hugs her back, closing his eyes, burying his nose in her hair.

"You've been treating me like shit," he murmurs, dragging his palm down her back, "I'm starting to think you hate me."

"No," she breathes immediately, pulling back to look at him with big, fearful eyes, "I don't hate you. I don't."

The panic on her face tells him everything he needs to know. She doesn't really _want_ to push him away, and hearing that she may have is terrifying for her. His face softens, and he leans in to kiss her, just once.

"Okay," he whispers, bringing her back into their embrace, nuzzling her neck.

He feels her relieved exhale as she sinks into his arms, letting him hold her. Without thinking about it, he presses his fingers into her lower back, massaging firmly, and she shudders violently. The muscles there are full of knots, tense and tender.

"Oh, hey," he murmurs, stopping immediately, "I didn't mean to—did you stop using those cold/hot patches?"

"I ran out," she whimpers, tensing up again when he presses lightly.

"Liv, you _can't_. How are you wearing heels? I keep telling you to wear flats once in a while, when was the last time you got a massage, I thought you were going to find someone?"

She pulls back to look at him with glassy eyes, cradling his jaw, shaking her head. "I don't like anyone doing that."

 _Except for you_

With that little unspoken detail, they have the same set of revelations, staring at each other in silence.

No one else in her life, including the other people that have been in her bed, know that she has chronic lower back pain, that sometimes her hips ache, that sometimes the muscles spasm painfully, that she has a custom mattress. No one else has spent the time looking up safe stretches and massages that they can do at home, because her back is so tender sometimes that she doesn't trust anyone not to hurt her, not even a professional.

No one takes care of her when she can't do it herself, no one has even bothered to notice the subtle changes in her posture, or her sleeping position, when she's in pain. And she doesn't trust anyone else enough to tell them.

 _Except for him_

The realization knocks the breath out of him, and he knows from the way she's looking at him that she's realized it too. They're so much more than the way she's treated him lately, connected in ways that go far beyond sex.

"Well," he rasps, swallowing against the lump in his throat, "I'll get the concierge to pick some up. Before you leave, okay?"

She nods, blinking tears away, stroking his jaw with her thumbs.

And _now_ he wants her, badly.

He wants to give her comfort if she needs it, an escape, a safe place to land. It's the most natural thing in the world to pull her in close, nuzzling his nose against hers.

"Can we— _please_ ," she whispers against his lips, through uneven breaths.

Fitz kisses her, making love to her with his mouth from the first press, slow, hot, open-mouthed, coaxing her tongue out to tangle with his. And then he stops, pulling away to look at her, slowly running his thumb across her bottom lip.

"Lay down," he orders, voice warm and quiet.

She stares at him for a moment, chest heaving softly. Sliding her palms down his arms, she uses him for leverage, laying down on her back, not breaking eye contact. He coaxes her further onto the bed, nudging her thighs apart, kneeling between them.

He sighs, looking down at her for a moment, and then bends to kiss the swells of her breasts. "God, you're beautiful."

Her fingers thread into his hair as he nuzzles the space between her breasts, pressing kisses there. The breath stutters in her chest as he lightly drags his lips over her ribcage, down her belly, stopping at the top of her pants.

" _Fitz_."

He takes his time unbuttoning, unzipping, breathing over her sensitive skin. Her hips flex after he peels her jeans off, and he glances up to see her breath catch with pain.

"Don't," he murmurs, cradling her hips to still them, "Your back. Here, like this."

Her eyes burn with tears because he's _so_ sweet, so good to her, and the angle of her legs over his shoulders really does make her back feel better. Liv reaches down and tangles her fingers in his hair, sighing when he exhales a warm breath against her center.

His fingers tease her, running under the edge of her lacy, pale pink thong while he sucks kisses along her inner thighs. "Mmm. These are pretty."

She smiles for the first time in days, biting her lip as the most delicious warmth curls in her belly, pooling between her legs. "You gonna take them off, or…?"

 _This_.

Their bubble, where it's just them, and everything else goes away; _this_ is what she needs, what she always needs.

He grins against her, nipping at the lace with his teeth, and then sits up to carefully pull her panties off.

Settling back down with her legs over his shoulders again, he hums quietly. " _Oh_ , I can't wait to make you come."

Her giggle trails off into a whimper, hands going back into his hair as he gives her a slow lick. He warms her up with soft strokes, until her breaths start to get slow and heavy, until she starts to sigh on every exhale. Her clit swells beneath his tongue and he hums happily, delighting in the way she starts to shake and moan, rush after rush of moisture coating his tongue. He teases her a little, giving her pressure and then taking it away, making her whimper and writhe against his mouth.

She moans, raking her fingers through his hair. " _Make me come_."

He grins, drawing her clit between his lips for a gentle suck. Her thighs jerk with the pressure, and she starts to pant, pulling his hair a little. She's _ready_ , shaking, whimpering; he's not timing himself but it feels _fast_ , and he really shouldn't be surprised given how tense and stressed she is. Moving with her, he gives her more, brings her closer, and tips her over the edge. She tenses up as her muscles pulse with relief, mewling once and then relaxing in stages.

" _Baby_ ," she moans, squeezing his shoulders, rocking against his mouth.

Sighing, he sucks one more kiss against her clit, and then crawls over her, pressing warm kisses over her breasts on his way up.

"Why are you still wearing this?" he murmurs, unclasping her bra.

"Why are you still wearing pants?" she sighs, breath catching as he sucks a nipple into his warm mouth, " _Off_. _Fitz_."

* * *

He gets up, turns the light off, strips down, and guides her into his lap.

They move together for a long time, in the dark, in the quiet; their focus narrows to the place where they're joined, to warm skin, wandering hands, to slow, heavy breaths. She teases his ears for endless, torturous minutes, lightly rubbing her lips against the sensitive skin, shivering when he trails his fingertips down her back.

Fitz lets her take control, falling onto his back, letting the rock of her hips drive pleasure into every nerve, every muscle. She gently brushes his hands away when he tries to touch her, settling them over her thighs, encouraging him to relax.

" _Let me_."

It's a _lot_ when he puts all of his focus on the feeling of her riding him, it's hard to breathe, and he has no idea if ten minutes or ten _seconds_ pass before he's _right there_. Intense pressure builds as she moves over him firmly; hot, wet, so unbearably good that he doesn't realize how loudly he's groaning until he stops, until the release.

White hot pleasure shoots up his spine for a few mind-numbing seconds; moments so vulnerable, so blinded by sensation, that the world could end and he wouldn't know it.

She orgasms again while he's coming down, and he opens his eyes to see her touching herself, spread over his hips, and he thinks he might die all over again. Her muscles ripple around him, gripping him over and over, and he pulls her down onto his damp chest, rocking up into her. They pant together, holding on to ground themselves, moving gently, involuntarily, while the last sparks fizzle and burn out.

When she can breathe again she kisses him slowly, holding his face between her palms. When she pulls back to look at him, she looks so overwhelmed that he wouldn't be able to comprehend it, if he hadn't been feeling the same way.

Settling her against his chest, he kisses her forehead, whispering.

" _I know…I know_."

* * *

They nap, and wake up at midnight absolutely _starving_.

So, Fitz orders pizza, she puts on some of his clothes, and they eat in bed.

They laugh and talk about nothing, shutting out the world, pretending everything is completely normal, and it's the most fun they've had in a _long_ time.

"Oh, he _didn't_."

"Yep, _all_ over me."

Liv laughs, looking at him sympathetically. "That sounds disgusting."

"It was. I was like, 'seriously, kid?' We get two days together, and you're going to throw up all over me five minutes after I pick you up?"

"Aww," she laughs, chewing the last bite of her pizza crust.

"And it turned out he _did_ have the flu. I couldn't really be mad at him though, he felt so crappy that he just wanted to lay on me all weekend."

She smiles knowingly. "I bet you loved that."

" _Loved_ it," he grins, rolling over on the bed, "We watched so many movies. I haven't gotten that many hugs in a long time."

"He's lucky," she says softly, "Not all dads would do something like that. And actually enjoy it."

"Mine certainly wouldn't have."

She huffs, stretching her legs out. "Yeah, mine either."

She twists to set her plate aside, and he looks up just in time to catch her wincing in pain. When she turns again he's staring at her, brows furrowed. For a moment, she pretends that she's fine, sitting up straight and reaching for another handful of popcorn; but when her back twinges again she slumps.

Liv takes a breath and looks over at him, tentatively. "Would you?"

"Of course," he murmurs, climbing out of bed, "C'mere."

He waits for her to come around and lay down on the floor, kneeling in front of her.

"Knees up," he says softly, helping fold her legs up so she's tucked into a little ball, "Okay, deep breath."

She breathes in, and as she slowly exhales he carefully presses on her calves, pushing her thighs closer to her chest. They repeat the stretch and she groans quietly when he presses a little harder, grimacing.

"I know," he murmurs, "Couple more times. You'll feel better."

"Can't we skip to the massage? I like the massage," Liv breathes, clenching her teeth.

"One more time," he coaxes gently, repeating the stretch, "There. Okay."

She extends her legs back out slowly, letting him help her up off the floor and back onto the bed. Peeling his sweatshirt off, she settles onto her stomach, lifting her hips so he can slide a pillow underneath them.

"Tell me if I'm pressing too hard, okay? We haven't done this in a while."

"You'll remember," she sighs, trusting him completely, closing her eyes.

His thumbs settle on either side of her spine, gently pressing and pulling as they travel up, trying to get the muscles to stop holding on so tightly.

She whimpers and he stops for a moment. "Sorry."

"No, it's—I need it, keep going. I'm fine."

They're quiet for a while, save for her soft groans and sighs. Eventually, everything starts to loosen and he can feel her melt into the bed with relief.

"I miss you," she murmurs, so softly that he almost doesn't hear her.

His breath catches, and he feigns ignorance. "Hmm?"

"I miss you, sometimes. Your voice, your smell—"

"—you miss me _sometimes_. That's heartwarming."

" _All the time_ , okay?" she whispers, blinking away tears, "All the time."

He leans down, pressing a line of soft kisses across her bare back. "I miss you too, Livvie."

They make the silent, mutual decision to leave it there, too tired now for the conversation they need to have.

"Be right back."

She closes her eyes, humming softly, only looking up at the sound of crinkling paper.

"How did you—"

"It's a twenty-four-hour concierge," he smiles, peeling the backing off of the medicated patch, "They brought them up when the pizza came. Here, don't move yet."

He lays the patch against her low back, smoothing it down with his palm, rubbing back and forth a few times to make sure it activates.

" _Oh my god_ ," she moans, burying her face in her pillow.

Fitz grins. "Yep, _there_ it is."

"That's incredible."

"Which is why you need to wear them regularly, if you recall."

"Shut it," she orders, voice muffled in the pillow.

He chuckles, reaching over to turn the light off. "Alright, on your side, pretty girl. Here's your pillow."

She rolls over and puts the pillow between her knees, sighing when he spoons up behind her. He buries his nose in her hair and settles down with a long exhale, pressing into her warmth.

"Fitz," she whispers, after a few minutes.

"Hmm?"

"Can I come back tomorrow?"

"Yeah," he murmurs, kissing her neck, "You can."

* * *

 _ **A/N: These post-eps are getting harder to write, because canon Liv is being SO extra, but I'm going to try to do as many as I can for you guys! Would you guys be up for some post-eps that are more angsty? Or do you want me to keep "fixing" them? I hope you enjoyed this one, let me know!** _


	74. The First Love Story: I

_**A/N: This chapter contains material surrounding the death of a parent (NOT LIV OR FITZ, NO ONE PANIC). If you think this might be upsetting or triggering for you, please feel free to skip this one and wait for the next part of The First Love Story.**_

* * *

 _ **Micah & Sariyah, 6 – Ruby, 2**_

"You're home early," Fitz smiles, looking up from his computer.

Liv shrugs, coming over to kiss him. "Just paperwork left for the day, I figured I'd come home and do it. Where is everyone?"

"The little lady is down for a late nap, and the two compadres are upstairs playing a game, I think."

"They're _awfully_ giggly," she smiles, looking up as another round of laughter echoes down the stairs, "Did you ever think his best friend would be a girl? It's so cute."

"I never thought about it, to be honest, but I'm glad he's friends with a good kid. He can have her over every day if he wants, she's low maintenance."

"I'm going to go up and say hello, not that they'll notice," Liv laughs, turning to head up the stairs.

She eavesdrops on their conversation for a few seconds as she gets closer to Micah's room, trying to figure out what game they're playing.

"Here, do you want another red one?" Micah's asking.

Sariyah giggles again. "No, silly. If I take that one I'll win!"

"That's okay, we can play again. Here!"

"We're supposed to try to win, not fill up the board. You make a line."

"But if we fill it up, we can make them fall."

' _Connect Four'_ , Liv guesses silently, coming to stand in the doorway. She turns just in time to watch Micah open the bottom of the game so that all the pieces tumble out, resulting in more laughter.

"Hey, you two," Liv smiles, crossing her arms, "How's it going in here?"

"Hi Mom, we're playing Connect Four!"

"Hi Mrs. Grant."

"Hi, sweetie. You're not letting him win, are you?"

"No, I _never_ do that," Sariyah says, as if it's obvious.

"Good!"

"Mom, can Sariyah have dinner with us?"

"Sure, if she wants to. Do you want to?"

Sariyah tips her head thoughtfully. "What are you having?"

"I don't know, Mr. Grant does all of the cooking. But we can ask him."

"No, Dad told me that we're having rat-a-tat-tat."

"What's _that_?" Sariyah asks, looking concerned.

"It's our special name for ratatouille," Liv smiles, shaking her head, "Have you had that before?"

Micah sits up on his knees with excitement. "It's _really_ good."

"It's tomato sauce with some vegetables in it, Mr. Grant mostly uses zucchini. Do you like zucchini?"

"Yeah!" Sariyah nods.

"Okay! I think you'll like it. We always have it with garlic bread and some rice."

"I _love_ rice."

"Well, we'll just call your parents to make sure it's okay. You know what I was thinking, Sariyah, we would love for your mom and dad to come over and have dinner with us sometime. Do you think they would like to come?"

The little girl gets quiet all of a sudden, focusing on the game again. "They can't come tonight, my Mom is in the hospital again. But maybe when she's better."

"Oh, okay," Liv breathes softly, face falling, "I—I didn't know that. Is your Mom sick?"

Micah's quiet too, seeming to know this information already.

"She has cancer," Sariyah says, solemnly but matter-of-factly, "Sometimes she has to stay in the hospital."

Hearing a little girl speak those words is like a punch to the gut, and Olivia is silent for a moment.

"Well," she says, clearing her throat, "I hope that she can come home really soon."

* * *

She leaves them alone to play, relief washing over her as their giggling starts up again.

"Did you know that Zuri Bennett has cancer?" Olivia asks, walking back into Fitz's office.

"Yeah," he sighs, not looking away from whatever he's typing, "Cervical. Alan told me when he picked Sariyah up a few months ago. I think they caught it pretty early though, which is something."

"How could you forget to tell me that? Sariyah just told me she's in the hospital."

That gets his attention and he looks up at her. "I'm sorry, Liv, I didn't—he made it sound like it was a best-case scenario. She could be there for routine chemotherapy, it might not be anything serious."

"I hope you're right, but getting blindsided with that was not fun. We should—I feel like we should do something, shouldn't we?"

"Like what?" Fitz says, smiling sadly, "We're not doctors. They have good insurance, Alan's a financial risk advisor, it's not like they need us to take up a collection."

"No, I—I didn't mean that, I just…I don't know," she sighs, scrubbing a hand over her face, "Maybe…can we send them some meals? So they don't have to cook? Or offer to have Sariyah come over on a more regular schedule?"

He nods, coming over to pull her into a hug. "Of course we can. Those are great ideas. Hey, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't know you'd get so upset."

"She's just a little girl," Liv murmurs, hugging him back, "And Micah cares about her, so _I_ care about her. I—we just saw them at back-to-school night a few weeks ago, and Zuri was—she was fine. It scares me."

"I know," he soothes, holding her tighter.

* * *

 _ **Micah & Sariyah, 7 – Ruby, 3**_

"Why do I have to wear this? I thought you said we were gonna go see Sariyah?"

Fitz sighs, helping Micah pull the sweater-vest down over his collared shirt. "Come sit over here for a minute, I want to talk to you about something."

They sit down on Micah's bed, and Fitz takes a deep breath, clasping his hands together.

"So, you know how Sariyah's mom, Mrs. Bennett, got very sick, right?"

Micah nods. "Yeah, and that's why her Grammy came to stay with them."

"That's right. Well, a few days ago, Mrs. Bennett died," Fitz says gently, carefully watching Micah's reaction.

"Why?" Micah breathes, frowning.

"She was very, very sick, and the doctors couldn't make her better."

"Because she had cancer?"

"Right, because she had cancer."

"But, I saw her," Micah says, confused about the timeline of things, "She was laying down on the sofa at Sariyah's house."

"That's right, you did," Fitz nods, "That was a few weeks ago. After that, she had to go to the hospital, and the doctors tried to make her better. But they couldn't, and she died."

"Is that why Sariyah didn't come to school?"

"Yeah, that's why. She's been spending some special time with her family."

Micah looks down at his lap, sighing, still trying to process.

"So…Mrs. Bennett won't ever come back?"

"No," Fitz says softly, patiently, "She won't ever come back."

"But, then Sariyah won't have a mom. Everybody is supposed to have a mom," Micah reasons, shaking his head.

Fitz's eyes burn with tears, and he blinks, clearing his throat. "Umm. Sometimes kids don't have moms, because things like this happen. Sariyah will always remember her mom, but Mrs. Bennett won't be here anymore, you're right."

"Well, I just don't think that's okay," he scoffs, annoyed.

"You're right, it's really not okay. But sometimes it happens."

Micah takes a breath, putting together another thought.

"Do you think Sariyah's sad? Because she misses her mom?" he asks, looking up at Fitz.

"Yeah, bud. I think she's very sad," Fitz nods tearfully, reaching over to rub his back.

Micah's quiet again, thinking.

"Dad, what do I say, when I see her? To make her feel better?"

"I don't think you should worry about making her feel better, okay? I know you want to, but no one can really make her feel better right now, and that's okay."

"Oh…but what do I _say_ , Dad?"

Fitz sighs, thinking. "Maybe you should just ask her if she wants a hug. Does that sound okay?"

"I guess so."

* * *

"I don't know if I can do this," Liv whispers, squeezing his hand as they slowly advance forward in the receiving line.

Fitz kisses her temple, keeping his other hand on Micah's shoulder. "I know."

He glances toward the front of funeral parlor where Zuri Bennett's family is quietly receiving condolences, identifying the people he knows. He spots Alan, Sariyah's older brother Amarey, and Zuri's mother, standing next to a line of stoic men that must be Zuri's brothers.

"How many brothers did she have?" Liv asks him quietly, looking at the nearest photo collage.

"I think three. I don't see Sariyah."

" _Fitz_."

She's nearly crushing his fingers as the line in front of them parts. Sariyah's weaving her way through the crowd, making a beeline for them. But as she gets closer it's perfectly clear that she's not coming toward them, she's coming toward _Micah_.

She ducks under someone's arm, and Micah finally notices that she's there.

"Hi, Riyah," he says quietly, a little tentative.

She smiles a little, happy to see him amidst the unbearable sadness in her world. "Hi, Micah."

"I'm, umm, I'm sad that your mom died," he offers.

She looks at him with big, round eyes. "Me too."

"Do you want a hug?"

Sariyah thinks for a second, looking at him curiously. "Okay."

As they hug, Fitz looks over at Liv to confirm that she's seeing what he's seeing, and finds her in tears, chin trembling.

"I have my iPad, do you want to play something?" Sariyah asks, pointing to the rows of chairs.

"Sure. Can I, Dad?" Micah asks, looking up at him.

"Well, I don't know, we should—"

He cranes his neck to check with Sariyah's dad, wanting to let him know where she is, but when he looks to the front of the line again Alan's already looking at them. He nods gratefully, motioning that it's alright for her to stay with Micah.

"Okay," Fitz says softly, nodding to the kids, "Mr. Bennett said it's okay."

Sariyah takes his hand, guiding him out of line. "C'mon, my dad let me download some new games."

"Cool."

He watches them settle into a couple of chairs and then turns back to Olivia, gently pulling her into a hug. "Hey, c'mere. I know."

"We have a really great kid," she sniffles, hiding her face in his chest.

"Yeah, we do."

* * *

 _ **1 Month Later…**_

"Okay, little Ruby, don't eat any marbles," Sariyah coos, dumping the bag of colorful glass orbs out onto the carpet.

"Yay!" Ruby squeals, grabbing a handful, "'Riyah, you gonna make it?"

"Yup, we'll make a really big one, okay?"

"Yeah, Ruby, a big one. But it might take a while so don't knock it over, got it?" Micah warns, always wary of including his little sister in anything detail-oriented.

"Let's make this one!"

Micah makes a face. "We _always_ make the one on the box, why don't we make our own?"

"I want this two," Ruby interjects, grabbing a few pieces of the plastic marble run.

"Ruby, _wait_ —"

"Your dad always says to just give her some pieces to play with while we finish," Sariyah whispers to him, giving Ruby a sidelong glance.

"Fine," he sighs, "Okay, we need a red piece first."

"No, we have to start with a green piece."

"Are we really making the one on the box? I thought we were going to make our own."

"What if it doesn't work? The one on the box always works."

"It will work," Micah nods, starting to click pieces together.

Sariyah looks wary, but she settles in to help, and they work harmoniously for a while.

"Micah, that piece can't go there, we need one with a slide-ey part."

"Yes it can, look—"

"I _am_ looking. I think we should use a red piece."

"Well _I_ think we should use a yellow piece."

"You're being bossy!"

"No I'm not, I just know what to do. The red piece won't work, here, watch what the yellow one does."

"No! Micah, that one's not right!"

"It works, look!"

"No!" Sariyah yells, trying to yank the piece he's snapped in off of the structure, "It's not right! It's not the right one!"

"You're ruining it! Stop it!"

" _You_ stop it!"

She pushes the entire thing over and stands up to kick it, breaking it apart in multiple places.

"Oh no, it got broke," Ruby says with wide eyes, pointing to it as if they haven't all noticed.

"Riyah," Micah gasps, looking shocked, "Look what you did."

"It wasn't right," she gasps, starting to cry, sinking to the floor and covering her face.

Olivia runs down the hallway from her office, having heard the commotion. " _What_ is going on out here? What happened?"

"I don't know, Mom," Micah says, shaking his head.

"Sariyah?" she says softly, carefully approaching the sobbing little girl, "Sweetie, what happened? What's wrong?"

" _It wasn't right…it wasn't right…_ "

Liv strains to make out what she's saying, laying a tentative hand on her back. "What wasn't right?"

Sariyah suddenly turns and throws herself into Olivia's arms, burying her face in her shoulder, arms squeezed tight around her neck as she cries. " _I don't know…I don't know…_ "

" _Oh_ ," Liv gasps, caught off guard, sinking onto her heels on the floor, "Okay. It's okay, I've got you."

Fitz comes out from his office, taking in the situation unfolding in their living room, and quickly realizes his son's best friend might need a little space.

"Hey, Micah," he says softly, beckoning him over, "I need to do a bunch of corn for dinner, can you come help me? Let's let Mom and Sariyah talk for a minute."

"Yeah, okay," Micah agrees, walking past them, still looking concerned.

Olivia stands up and moves to the couch, holding Sariyah on her lap while she _cries_ and cries, rocking her slowly. She mentally flips through the research she's done on how to help children grieve, remembering that she should let the little girl cry as long as she needs to, realizing she probably has no idea this outburst is connected to her grief.

Finally, her tears start to slow and she lets go of Liv's neck, turning to sit on her lap.

"I'm sorry," she sniffles, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

"Here," Liv murmurs, grabbing a tissue from the end table, "Why are you sorry?"

Sariyah wipes her face, hiccupping. "I broke our marble run."

"Yeah, you did," Liv sighs, kissing her temple, "But that's okay, I don't think you meant to do it."

"I didn't mean to."

"I know you didn't, I promise."

"I don't feel good today," Sariyah whispers, tears slipping down her cheeks.

"I know," Liv murmurs, rubbing her back, "Where don't you feel good? Does your stomach hurt?"

Sariyah shakes her head, balling up her tissue.

"How about your head? Does your head hurt?"

"A little," she nods.

She takes a deep breath and relaxes into Olivia's chest, head tipping against her shoulder. Liv rests her cheek against the little girl's hair, still holding her, letting _her_ decide when she's comforted.

"Do you want to call your dad?" she asks softly.

"He's at work," Sariyah says sullenly.

Liv suddenly remembers reading something about grieving kids clinging to familiar people, and realizes this is the first Saturday that Sariyah's been away from her dad since her mom's passing.

"He had to work today, but I bet he would still love to talk to you. He always works one Saturday a month, remember?"

"Is Micah mad at me?"

"No," Liv soothes, shaking her head, "He's not mad. He doesn't like it when you don't feel good, either."

"Did I make him sad? Because I cried?"

 _Oops._

She backtracks a little, realizing her mistake. "No, you didn't make him sad. It's okay for you to cry, whenever you want. Okay?"

"Okay," she says quietly.

"Ruby, what are you doing?" Liv asks, watching her toddler put random pieces of the marble run together.

"Gonna make it," Ruby says distractedly, flopping down onto her butt.

She stifles a laugh, endlessly grateful that Ruby seems to have no idea that anything is wrong. "Okay, bug."

Sariyah shifts in her arms, silently moving to hug her again. "Mrs. Grant?"

Liv wraps her up, rubbing her back. "You know what? How about if you call me Olivia. Or Liv."

"Olivia?"

"Hmm?"

"What are we having for dinner?"

Liv smiles, closing her eyes. "I think we're having steak and baked potatoes on the grill, and corn. Micah and Fitz are peeling the corn, do you want to go help them?"

Sariyah turns and stands in front of her, nodding, smiling a little.

Liv smiles back, wiping the last of the tear tracks from her cheeks, nodding her off. "Go ahead."

She scampers away into the kitchen and Liv collapses back onto the couch, blowing out a long breath.

"Mommy, watch!"

Ruby's connected multiple pieces into one long, uncomplicated tube, and she dumps a handful of marbles into the top, watching as they fall straight down onto the carpet.

"Aha!" she shrieks, jumping a little, "Mommy, I got it!"

Liv bursts into laughter, crawling over to help. "You do not have an engineer's mind, baby, but that's okay. Great job!"

* * *

"Will you wait for me?"

"Yeah."

Micah waits for Sariyah to finish putting on her sweater, and then walks with her to the lunch line, letting her get in front of him.

"What do they have?"

He stands on his toes, an inch taller than most of their classmates (this month, anyway). "Umm, I think enchiladas."

"That's not so bad," she sighs, crossing her arms, "I think I did really bad on that spelling test."

Micah's brows furrow as they shuffle forward in line. "I bet you did good. You're always good at spelling."

She turns to him with tears in her eyes. "Today I'm not. I don't know why."

"Don't cry," he says quietly, "It's just a test. Even if you did bad, you'll do good on the next one."

She shakes her head sadly. "No, I won't."

He sighs, taking a step closer to her. "You're having a sad day, I think. It's okay."

Before Sariyah can answer, the boys in front of her in line start to push each other playfully, accidentally knocking into her. She stumbles, colliding with Micah, who steadies her easily so she doesn't fall over.

"Hey!"

"Hey, Dylan watch out," Micah says angrily, "You pushed her."

Dylan turns around, rolling his eyes when he sees that Sariyah's crying. "I barely even touched her, she's just being a stupid girl."

" _Don't_ call her that," Micah says, suddenly flushing hot with anger.

"Why are you always hanging around with a crybaby girl anyway, Micah? She _always_ cries."

Micah takes a step forward. "She is _not_ a crybaby. Say you're sorry."

"No, I'm not saying sorry, she is _too_ a crybaby."

" _Dylan_."

The cafeteria aid on duty barks his name, coming over to order him out of the lunch line. "That's enough. Not acceptable. Guess what, now you get to eat lunch with the principal."

Dylan groans, dragging his feet as he's guided away. "I didn't even _say_ anything."

"Uh-huh, I was right here listening to all of the _nothing_ you just said. Go."

The aid watches to make sure the hall monitor intercepts him, and then kindly turns back to Sariyah and Micah.

"You okay, honey?"

She hides her face in Micah's shoulder, not at _all_ interested in talking to an adult she barely knows.

"Do you need to talk to Mrs. Ivins?"

 _The overly smiley guidance counselor._

Sariyah immediately reaches for Micah's hand, squeezing tightly. "No."

"She doesn't want to talk," Micah says dismissively, leading her away when the line moves forward.

Shrugging, the aid walks away and the incident is over, leaving the two of them to their own devices again. Sariyah lets go of his hand, wiping her face with her sleeve, and silently takes her tray of food. She waits while Micah scans his meal card, and they quietly make their way back to their friends, sitting down.

"Did Dylan push you?" Violet asks, through a mouthful of enchiladas.

Sariyah shrugs, poking at her food.

Collin pipes up from a few seats away. "He totally did, I saw him."

"He's a jerk," Micah mutters, glancing over at his friend.

Sariyah still doesn't say anything, frowning at the meager amount of cheddar cheese she's been given to sprinkle over her meal.

"Here," Micah offers, picking up his own cup of cheese, "You can have mine, too."

She smiles a little, slowly taking it from him. "Thanks."

* * *

 _ **Micah & Sariyah, 9 – Ruby, 5**_

"Is Micah Grant your boyfriend?"

Sariyah looks up from her book, giving Josie a _look_. "What? No."

Josie eyes her suspiciously. "Seems like he is."

"Well, he's not," she whispers, dismissively, "We're supposed to be silent reading."

"Oh, come on. Mr. Winter always checks out during silent reading, we won't get in trouble."

Sariyah goes back to reading, pretending not to have heard her friend.

"You hang out at his house a lot, don't you?" Josie presses, eyes wide with curiosity.

"We're just friends, okay?"

"I don't have any friends who are boys, and I go to their houses."

"So, what? That doesn't mean he's my boyfriend. We've been best friends since first grade. His mom helps me with my hair sometimes, she can do fun braids that my dad doesn't know how to do."

Josie tips her head curiously. "Why doesn't your mom do it?"

 _ **Every time**_ _she makes a new friend, she has to tell someone all over again._

"My mom died," Sariyah says softly, staring at her book without reading it, "When I was seven."

Josie looks at her with wide eyes. "Oh. I'm sorry."

Sariyah shrugs, sighing. "Thanks."

She goes back to reading, hoping against hope that she's off the hook for the time being.

"So, he's _not_ your boyfriend?"

"Oh my gosh, _stop it_."

* * *

 _ **Micah & Sariyah, 10 – Ruby, 6**_

"Dude, you ' _like her'_ , like her. I know you do!"

"Cut it out, no I don't," Micah laughs awkwardly, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, "She's my friend."

"You mean your _girlfriend_ ," Collin teases, running to catch up with him.

"No, she's not my girlfriend. We just like the same stuff, is all."

"Like what?"

"Umm. Reading. And doing puzzles, and playing on our iPads," Micah shrugs, walking toward the exit of the school, "She plays with my little sister too. Ruby doesn't bug me as much when Sariyah's over."

Collin looks skeptical. " _I've_ never had a girl over after school."

"Maybe girls don't like the same stuff as you," Micah says, simply.

"I like umm…Mortal Combat?"

"I don't think girls like that."

"Why wouldn't they? It's the _best_. Do you have that game?"

"No, I'm not allowed."

" _That's_ dumb."

Micah shrugs again, spotting Sariyah waiting for him near the doors. "I gotta go, my Dad's probably here."

"Say hi to your girlfriend!"

"Shut _up_ , Collin."

Sariyah's face changes when she hears Collin's parting remark, and she doesn't smile back as Micah approaches.

"Hey. Do you see my Dad yet?"

"Yeah," she nods quietly, pushing the door open.

They're quiet as they head down the sidewalk toward the secret service vehicle, drained after a long day in the fifth grade.

"Was Collin making fun of you for hanging out with me?" she asks him suddenly, stopping in her tracks.

Micah turns to her, wondering why she looks so nervous. "Kind of. Why?"

"Are you going to stop being my friend?"

"What?" he gasps, horrified because the thought has never even occurred to him, "No! Why would I do that?"

"Because people talk about us!"

"So? Who cares?"

"I dunno," Sariyah shrugs, "You don't mind that Collin and the others make fun of you?"

Micah looks confused. "I like being your friend. Why would I ever stop? They make fun of you too, sometimes. Do you want to stop being _my_ friend?"

"No," she says, eyes widening, "I think we should always be friends."

"Cool, me too," he smiles, coming to stand next to her, "Wanna race?"

"Yeah," she laughs, hitching her backpack higher, "Ready, set—"

" _Hey!_ No fair, you cheated!"

 _'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love_

 _Not knowing what it was_

 _I will not give you up this time_

* * *

 ** _A/N: I've been brainstorming this for MONTHS, and all of a sudden I was ready to tell their story. Not sure how many parts this will be, at least one more, maybe two. Ed Sheeran's "Perfect" has been my soundtrack for this. I hope you guys are game for this, because I am *loving* writing it! Let me know your thoughts!_**


	75. The First White House Fourth

_**A/N: I'm feeling supremely uninspired lately (7x10 was a doozy). I AM working on a post-ep for 7x10 but I'm having a hard time focusing, so I'm not sure when it will be up. I dug into the unpublished archives on my laptop and polished this one up for you guys, because I didn't want to disappear for too long!**_

* * *

 _ **Micah, 4yrs – Ruby, 5 months**_

"Remind me again why we agreed to this?"

"Because," Olivia sighs, automatically smiling at Ruby when he passes her over, "We get invited every single year and we have yet to accept."

They're in a private driveway at the White House, unloading the kids.

"There's a reason we don't accept."

"Listen, you knew we were doing this today, what's with the whining? Bug, you have to put your legs in."

She's struggling to get Ruby into the carrier she's wearing, lifting her up and down as she tucks her little legs up.

"Here," Fitz mumbles, coming over to help slip her legs through the holes.

Ruby gives up, letting herself be strapped in, face splitting into a big toothless grin when she remembers that she _does_ like being snuggled up against Mommy.

"Yeah," Liv grins, kissing her plump cheek, "You love this thing once you're _in_ it, huh? We're just gonna sweat to death all day together, it's gonna be so fun."

"Daddy, I can't get out," Micah whines from his seat, trying to release his straps.

Fitz glances over. "One second, bud. You don't have to wear her in it if you don't want to. We have the stroller, too."

Liv shrugs, swaying unconsciously. "If she's in here people are less likely to ask to hold her. Just because I wanted to come today doesn't mean I'm okay with passing her around, she's still so little."

He sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I'm just—they aren't part of this world. This isn't part of _normal_."

"Fitz," she says gently, reaching out to rest her hands on his waist, "It's okay that we're here. It's not normal, you're right, not every kid gets to spend the fourth of July at the White House. But, it's such an incredible experience for them, and Micah's old enough to remember it now. It's okay to let them have a little fun, don't you think? Take advantage of the fact that Daddy used to be the President, every now and then?"

He's quiet for a moment, staring into her eyes, and eventually he smiles gently. "I guess you're right. It _is_ pretty cool, to be here on the fourth."

"Right?" she agrees, happily, trying to help him be excited, "It's going to be fun. Micah can run around with Teddy—"

"Where's Teddy?!" Micah interrupts excitedly, still trapped in his car seat, "Daddy, can I _please_ gettout?"

He stretches out his 'please', knowing that's often the best way to get what he wants.

Fitz chuckles, climbing back in the car to unstrap him. "Sorry, Micah, you can get out. C'mon, we're going to a picnic."

* * *

"Dad!"

Teddy runs for Fitz as soon as he sees them coming, barreling straight into his arms, laughing as Fitz scoops him up and swings him around.

" _Da-ad_ , put me down!"

"Oh, I forgot, now that you're ten, you're too old to give hugs," Fitz teases, setting him down after one last squeeze.

"Teddy!" Micah exclaims, jumping up and down.

"Well, _I_ want a hug," Liv says, kneeling down to hug him with one arm.

"Hi Liv! Hi Ruby," Teddy says sweetly, taking the baby's hand for a second, watching as she eyes him curiously.

"What are you up to? Did you have some lunch?" Fitz asks, looking around to get the lay of the land.

They've been escorted to the area on the lawn reserved for special guests of the White House; staff members and their families, off-duty secret service, and anyone Mellie's invited personally.

"Yeah! Dad, I ate so much watermelon, I'm gonna explode."

"I want wadda-melon!" Micah chimes in immediately.

"We'll get you some, baby," Liv reassures him, glancing around.

"Dad, are you staying for the fireworks?!"

"We sure are," Fitz chuckles, messing up Teddy's hair, "Are you gonna sit with me?"

"Yup! Can Micah come see my room?"

"I wanna play with Teddy!" Micah announces, forgetting about his watermelon.

"Well," Fitz sighs, eyeing all of the people spread across the South Lawn, the giant stage set up toward the front where the concerts are set to start.

Liv looks slightly overwhelmed herself, not at all used to being in crowded situations with the kids. It's _the White House_ , and the entire perimeter is secret service-protected, not to mention fully secured and staffed, but still…there are _tons_ of people here that they don't know. Most people could likely recognize the youngest Grant boy, and help him if he were to get lost, but she's not sure if that's more comforting or frightening.

Ben steps forward and clears his throat. "Sir, I'll take personal responsibility for him, if you'd like. I'll detail him the rest of the day."

Fitz visibly relaxes, glancing over at Olivia to find her nodding vehemently, already reaching into the diaper bag to find Ruby something to chew on. Ben has been assigned to them since they left the White House, and there's isn't one secret service agent that they trust more.

"Boys, come here for a minute, please," Fitz says, getting both of their attention, "This is very important, okay?"

Micah instantly sobers, only fidgeting slightly when Fitz gently grips his arms, Teddy standing nearby.

"You can go play, but I want you to _stay together_ , okay? Teddy, you're the big brother, you need to hold Micah's hand when you're walking, and don't _ever_ leave him behind. Do you understand me?"

"Yeah, Dad," Teddy nods, putting a hand on his little brother's shoulder, "I promise."

"And _you_ ," Fitz continues, turning his attention to Micah, "You need to _stay with Teddy_. Remember how we talked about strangers, and how you're not _ever_ supposed to talk to strangers? Okay, I want you to remember that, even if someone tells you they know Daddy, you don't go with them. And if you want to come back and see Mommy and Daddy, just tell Ben, okay? Ben is going to stay with you."

Micah's hopping from one foot to the other by the time he finishes his speech, probably only internalizing a quarter of what he's saying.

"Can we go play, now?"

Fitz stands up and sighs, waving them off. "Yes, you can go play."

He's relieved when Teddy immediately grabs Micah's hand, walking with him toward the house. Ben winks at him, and then directs laser focus onto the boys, following immediately.

Liv comes to stand next to him, one hand on the back of Ruby's head. "Are we insane?"

"No," Fitz sighs, rubbing a slow circle over her back, "Ben won't let them out of his sight, I know that for a fact. I don't like it, but I think it's good for him to have a little bit of independence."

"I think it is too, but, you're right. I don't like it either. I'm glad you're still too little to go off by yourself," she murmurs to Ruby, wrinkling her nose when the baby offers her wet teething ring, "No thank you, baby. No thank you. _You_ chew it."

"Excuse me, President Grant?"

Fitz turns around to find Lauren, his former secretary, apprehensively hovering nearby.

"Hey, Lauren!" Fitz exclaims, surprising her by pulling her into a hug, "I can't believe you're here. It's so great to see you, how are you?"

"I'm doing well," she laughs, "It's great to see you too."

"You remember, Olivia," he gestures, stepping aside to let Liv greet her, "And this is Ruby, our youngest."

"Oh my gosh, look at how sweet she is. Hi, Ruby. How old is she now?"

"She's almost five months," Liv says, bouncing her gently, "Can you say hi? Say hi to Lauren."

Ruby blinks her big hazel eyes, sucking noisily on the bright green teether.

"I saw your son over here before, when you first walked over, I can't believe—I…your kids are beautiful," Lauren finishes, glancing between the two of them.

 _Is he in there? Is he alone?_

 _Door open, Lauren_

 _Would you call Olivia Pope for me, please?_

 _Door closed, Lauren_

There's a moment of unspoken remembrance between Olivia, Fitz, and the woman who had been a silent witness to the most tumultuous years of their relationship.

"Thank you," Liv says finally, pressing a kiss to Ruby's forehead, "We think they're pretty great."

"Is your family here? We'd love to say hello," Fitz says kindly.

* * *

"I got you! I got you," Olivia laughs, nuzzling her face against Ruby's neck, smooching kisses there.

She's laid a blanket out in the shade to change her diaper, and the baby is taking full advantage of the chance to stretch her chubby legs. Liv blows another raspberry against her belly, and she _squeals_ with laughter, beside herself with joy.

" _Oh_ , that's my favorite sound. That's my favorite sound, little bug."

Pulling Ruby's little red bloomers back on, she keeps blowing raspberries, making the baby laugh and kick her legs, letting her wiggle some energy out. Ruby grabs for her hair and face, tiny fingers landing in her mouth, squealing when Liv pretends to nibble on them.

Fitz watches them from a few yards away, talking to a few of his former staffers who have transitioned into the second Grant administration.

Glancing around, he notices people staring at his wife.

In fact, he's noticed people staring at her all day long. Staffers who had worked with her, people who've needed her help at one time or another, people who don't know her at all but have heard plenty of stories, everyone is mesmerized. No one recognizes this woman, the woman nursing in public and letting a baby nap on her chest, the woman kissing boo-boos and opening popsicle wrappers. People are surprised and intrigued, and, honestly, Fitz can understand why. Very few people have seen her be a mom, and it's such a departure from her public persona that it must be fascinating.

Excusing himself from the conversation, he makes his way over to Liv and Ruby.

"Here's my girls," Fitz sighs, sitting down on the blanket with them.

"Ladybug needed a diaper change," Liv grins, "Figured I'd let her get some wiggles out. Right, baby? Right? Say 'hi Daddy'. Oh, you _love_ Daddy."

Ruby makes a few happy noises when Fitz leans over her, eyes bright and wide as she squirms.

"Hi, sweet pea," he coos, palming her belly, "You look so cute today in your little red dress. You're very patriotic. Are you having a fun day?"

"She's loving being outside today, probably because it's so hot," Liv muses, grinning when Fitz leans down to kiss the baby, blowing a raspberry against her neck to make her laugh.

"Mommy!"

Olivia turns around, spotting Micah on the makeshift soccer field where he's been playing with Teddy and some of the other kids.

"Hey, you! Are you having fun?"

"Yeah! Watch me!"

He winds up for a huge kick, awkwardly sending one of the soccer balls flying a few feet.

"Great job, bud! Go get it!"

She watches him run after the ball, smiling when he carefully avoids a little girl who's toddling around with the bigger kids. Glancing around, she notices a few people quickly avert their eyes and she sighs, turning back to her husband.

"We don't have to stay," Fitz murmurs, noticing her expression, "We've been here a few hours, we can go home, finish the day in our own yard."

She nods slowly for a second, absently smoothing a wrinkle in her navy blue chinos. And then she looks at him, tipping her chin up defiantly.

"Let them stare. Let them see how happy we are. The kids are having fun, and, honestly, I am too. We're not leaving."

He _loves_ that look, her trademarked _'Olivia Pope'_ look.

Smiling, he nods and reaches for her, bringing her closer for a kiss. Ruby fusses impatiently, protesting because no one is paying attention to her.

"Oh, we're still here Ruby girl," Fitz chuckles, flopping down onto his back.

He picks Ruby up and lifts her into the air, watching as she laughs happily, kicking her feet. Olivia lays down next to him, reaching up to poke the baby's tummy.

"Look at this tummy. That's all that good milk, right there."

Fitz lowers her down slowly, waiting for Liv to pretend to grab her before he swings her back up into the air. Ruby giggles uncontrollably, wiggling happily, reaching for his nose when he brings her close to his face.

"Is Mommy gonna get you?" he laughs, bouncing her gently, letting her grab his cheeks.

They play with Ruby for a while, enjoying the fresh air, listening to Micah's happy shrieks and yells as he plays with the other kids.

"This is nice," Liv murmurs against his shoulder, listening to Ruby pant excitedly as he zooms her around, "Being outside, getting to be out as a family."

He lowers the baby to his chest and she lays her head down, relaxing with a big sigh.

Olivia laughs quietly, rubbing her back. "Did Daddy wear you out?"

Ruby pushes up on his chest, lifting her head and putting herself right in his face, making them both laugh.

"Tummy time! Look at you, strong girl," Fitz grins, making silly faces at her.

Micah runs over to them, collapsing dramatically onto the blanket.

"Taking a break, baby?" Liv asks, propping her head up on her hand.

"It's hot," he pants, spread-eagled on the blanket.

She sits up, reaching for the sippy cup she's already filled with water for him. "Yeah, it is hot. Stay in the shade for a couple minutes and drink this, okay?"

Micah drinks gratefully, draining half the cup in just a few seconds.

Liv fishes around in the diaper bag, coming up with a tube of sunscreen.

"Momm- _eey_ ," Micah whines, watching her crawl toward him with it.

"Nope, I don't want to hear it, Micah. You need more sunscreen, sit up, please."

He knows she means business by this point, and he sits up reluctantly, holding his arms out so that she can re-slather all exposed areas of skin.

"Here, you want to do your face all by yourself?"

' _All by yourself_ ' are the magic words these days, and Micah immediately perks up, holding his hands out for a blob of sunscreen.

"Okay, make sure you rub it all in. Get your nose, and your cheeks—there's a spot right there."

He makes a show of applying the sunscreen to his face, only complaining minimally when Liv jumps in to finish the job herself.

"You can go play now. Micah, watch out—"

In a fit of excitement Micah spins around to run away and collides roughly with a pair of legs, stumbling back onto the blanket.

"Oof. Someone's excited!"

Mellie Grant bends down to his level, smiling kindly. "Hi, Micah. Do you remember me?"

Micah scampers over toward Olivia, looking shy, a little embarrassed to have run into a grown-up.

"It's okay, baby," Liv murmurs, reassuring him, wrapping an arm around him, "Just say excuse me. Can you say hello? Do you know who that is?"

CNN plays often enough in the politically-aware Pope-Grant household for Micah to know _exactly_ who's in front of him.

"That's, umm, the President," he whispers, eyes big and round.

Liv smiles, glancing at Mellie. "That's right."

"I met you a long time ago, I bet you don't remember," Mellie says softly, seeing his shyness, sitting down on the blanket, "You can just call me Mellie, okay? Are you having fun today?"

Micah nods, still eyeing her from afar, fidgeting in Olivia's grasp. "Yeah. Umm. I played soccer."

"You did?! That sounds like fun! Are you going to go back and play some more?"

He nods again and then runs off to join the game, making the three adults chuckle in his wake.

"He was a little star-struck," Fitz laughs, sitting up with Ruby in his lap, "Mel, good to see you."

"It's good to see both of you, the aids told me you guys were here and I wanted to come say hello," Mellie smiles, eyes flicking between the three of them.

There's always a touch of awkwardness, but because of Teddy they've all been forced to find a way to interact comfortably, and they've settled into a dynamic that works for everyone.

Olivia takes Ruby when the baby starts to complain, leaning to grab her teething ring from the blanket. "I finally talked him into it. There was only minimal complaining right before we got here."

"And this precious little thing must be Ruby," Mellie coos, reaching out to gently take the baby's hand, "Geez, Liv, she's gorgeous, I don't think I've seen a picture of her since she was a newborn."

"Hey, what about me? I had a little something to do with her," Fitz says, pretending to be offended.

Both women scoff and Mellie waves him off, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, we know. But this child is all Liv, look at this little face."

* * *

By eight o'clock, Ruby's had about enough of the fourth of July, whimpering and complaining no matter what they try. Fitz walks her around for a while, trying to soothe her with the motion and distraction, but eventually he realizes Mommy superpowers are needed.

"Okay, I think we need Mommy," Fitz smiles, coming back over to their blanket and handing her the baby.

"C'mere, bug," Liv murmurs, cuddling Ruby against her shoulder, rubbing her back, "Are you tired? You're probably hungry, too, huh? Shh, shh."

Ruby quiets, nuzzling her face into Olivia's neck, little eyes blinking heavily.

"Daddy, when are we gonna see, umm, see fireworks?"

"Pretty soon, bud," Fitz says, smiling over at Micah, "We have to wait for it to get nice and dark."

"Mom, can I have another marshmallow?" Teddy asks, turning to Mellie, who has re-joined their group for the fireworks.

"Mmm, maybe one more. But that's it, okay?"

"Hey, do you want to grab that other wrap?" Liv asks Fitz, juggling the fussy baby on her lap, "I want to see if I can get her to go to sleep."

"Sure," he nods, reaching for their bag.

After a moment, he comes up with a folded bundle, and they both stand up.

"What the heck is that thing?" Mellie asks, watching with amusement as Fitz unfolds the giant piece of fabric.

"It's a baby carrier, just in wrap form," Liv chuckles, switching her hold on Ruby while Fitz drapes, twists, and tucks the wrap around them, "You can use it a bunch of ways, but I can't figure it out, he's the one who has it figured out."

"Now that she's bigger, she'll only tolerate it like this if she's tired, which she is," Fitz explains, standing back to double check his handiwork.

He's twisted the wrap into a sling, so that Liv can cocoon Ruby inside, cradled close. As soon as they sit back down and maneuver her into it, she starts to cry, completely aware of what's happening.

"Oh, I know bug, I know," Liv murmurs, unbuttoning her blouse, "You don't want to miss anything. But I promise, you have years and years to see fourth of July fireworks. Shh…shhh…"

Ruby fights latching for a few moments before she gives in, settling down to nurse. Despite not wanting to miss out on the action, she _is_ tired, and Olivia knows as soon as she's calm she'll fall asleep easily.

"There, that's better, huh? Mommy's got you, close your eyes, baby."

"The fireworks won't wake her up?" Mellie asks, trying to hide her curiosity as she watches them.

Liv smiles and shakes her head, rocking the baby gently from side to side.

"Snuggled up with her Mommy like that? No way," Fitz sighs, reclining back next to them, "Liv has the magic touch."

Something about nursing their babies takes all the sarcasm out of her, and she just smiles at him, reaching over to affectionately run a hand through his hair.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed a glimpse of summer in February! I'll be back with a post-ep as soon as I can.**_


	76. Catch and Release: I

_**A/N: Post 7x11**_

* * *

It takes her three months to come to him.

Three entire months.

He watches the news, he knows what's happening. He'd watched a replay of her press conference, he knows that she's finally resigned, that she's trying to breathe life back into her old business.

The thing is, he just doesn't care anymore.

That's a lie.

He cares.

He'll _always_ care about her, but he can't invest any more time or energy into a relationship that is blatantly one-sided, a relationship that she clearly doesn't care about. This time, _finally_ , she's gone too far, it's too much, and he's _done_.

She'd taken advantage of him, of his compassion, of his love for her. She had fallen into his arms, after an Oscar-worthy performance, after a night of tender, passionate sex, and he feels like a complete idiot. He'd trusted her, and she'd made a fool out of him.

So naturally, when word comes down that she's requested permission to land in his airspace, he grants it.

Maybe he's a masochist, but for some reason he needs to know what she has to say. He wants to hear her excuses, her empty apologies, for his own sense of closure. He's not completely sure it will help, but she's already hurt him so badly that he feels untouchable. Whatever she has to say, she can't touch him anymore.

* * *

The day she's requested to land, Fitz already has plans to go fly fishing, and when he wakes up he goes about his day as he normally would. Whether she shows up or not is of no concern to him, if she does, she can find him herself.

There's a creek about four miles off of his property, and it's his favorite spot. He takes the pickup about three miles out, Archie riding happily in the front seat with his head out the window, and then walks the last mile with his gear. Methodically, he sets up his chair at the edge of the water, sitting down to choose a lure and prepare his fly rod.

As soon as his waders and boots are secure, he slowly wades into the shallow creek and takes a deep breath, turning his face up into the sun. Glancing back toward the bank, he smiles as Archie rolls in the grass and then settles down for a long nap in the sun. Deliberately, he turns his back on the bank and focuses on the water, using one last bit of concentration to expertly cast his line.

And then, he quiets his mind, forcing the thoughts away, letting his ears fill with the sounds of nature.

' _The Contemplative Man's Recreation', indeed._

* * *

The creek isn't loud, but it does gurgle gently as it eases around boulders and reeds. It's loud enough that he can't hear her steps in the grass, so the only way he knows she's arrived is that Archie starts to growl.

Fitz smiles, because the little terrier has become fiercely protective of him already, and he's never really experienced loyalty like that before.

Archie's just on alert at first, growling low in his chest. He doesn't recognize Olivia, he's never seen her before, and so, to him, she's a potential threat. Fitz can tell she's getting closer because the growls intensify, moving up into the dog's throat, growing louder as if to say, _'Back up. I don't know you, back_ _ **up**_ _.'_.

Fitz lets him growl, lets him bare his teeth and make her uncomfortable. He wants her to be the first to say something, because she's the one who asked for this, she's the one who's disrupting a perfectly good day of fly-fishing.

Finally, she must come one _last_ step too close because Archie loses it, starting to bark.

' _Who do you think you are?! Get away!_ _ **Away**_ _! Don't you_ _ **dare**_ _come near him! He's_ _ **mine**_ _!'_

"Fitz?"

He sighs, slowly cracking his neck, preparing for a potential headache.

"Okay, Archie. Okay," he murmurs, looking at his pet first, gentling him easily.

Archie quiets and takes a few steps backward, inching toward him, and then sits down, eyes fixed on Liv.

"He's protective of you," she observes quietly, daring another step forward.

"Well, you're a stranger," Fitz says bluntly, looking at her coldly.

They stare at each other for a moment, and he's oddly satisfied to see that she looks uncomfortable. Annoyingly, she doesn't look terribly out of place in a pair of jeans, some Hunter boots, a green military jacket over her black tee, hair swept back into a bun. She's dressed for the part, he realizes, probably to try to prove something to him. But she _does_ look uncomfortable, and that makes him happy, because she's invading his space.

He turns his back on her, needing to feel the sun on his face again.

"I've been checking in at your office, but they told me you've been working remotely," she says carefully.

"Nothing I do there that I can't do from here," he shrugs, trying to relax his shoulders.

She's ruining his stance, he can already feel tension collecting across his back.

After a few minutes of silence he glances back to see her crouched in front of Archie, slowly petting his head, scratching behind his ears.

 _Traitor_.

A gentle tug on the line gets his attention, and he immediately focuses on landing the fish. It's a trout, he knows, and a fairly large one judging by the bend in the rod. He keeps the rod high, and lets the trout run a few times, reeling it in slow and steady.

"Did you get something?"

" _Shhh!_ "

He shushes her with annoyance, focused on the fish. Eventually, he can see the shimmering creature fighting beneath the surface. When it's close enough he scoops it up with his net, crouching down to keep the semi-exhausted fish beneath the water.

"Alright, I'm not gonna hurt you," he murmurs, wetting his hands before he firmly grips the flailing fish, easing the barb-less hook from its mouth, "That was fun, guy, off you go."

Stabilizing the trout beneath the surface, he waits for it to get it's bearings and swim away before he stands up again, checking to make sure his lure is intact. Out of habit, before he casts he glances behind himself. There's never anyone there, but today—

"Don't stand there," he warns, rolling his eyes.

"What?" she asks, looking confused.

"I need to cast. If you stand there, I'm going to hook you in the face, and as angry as I am I'd rather not. So, move."

She walks several feet to the left, and watches as he gracefully arcs the line over his shoulder and then forward, sending it out into the creek.

"How long have you been doing this?" Liv asks, walking back down the bank toward Archie.

He refuses to indulge her efforts to act like things are fine between them, like they're just catching up after a few months of being busy.

"Fitz," she sighs, "C'mon. Are you just going to ignore me?"

"I'm fishing," he snaps, not looking at her.

"Well, do you think we could talk? Can you take a break?" she asks softly, trying to stand in his peripheral vision.

Fitz scoffs at that, shaking his head. "You have a lot of nerve, do you know that? You're out here interrupting _my_ day, _my_ life, and I'm supposed to just bend over backwards?"

"I—I didn't…look, I came here because—"

"I honestly don't care why you came here," he interrupts, "Because I know you didn't do it for me. You came here for _yourself_. You're _selfish_ , and you always have been."

He's rarely taken such a venomous tone with her, and out of the corner of his eye he can see her hand come up to cover her mouth.

 _Good._

He hopes she's realizing how angry he truly is, how badly she's hurt him.

"I have been selfish," she admits quietly, tears in her voice.

"Don't do that," he hisses, glancing at her.

"Do what?" she breathes, eyes growing wide with shock.

"That _thing_. That thing you do, where you get all weepy and vulnerable, with your great big eyes and your wobbly chin. Just stop, Olivia."

She laughs humorlessly, trying to stop her lip from trembling. "I'm not doing a _'thing'_. I'm not—"

"—you're literally doing it right now. I don't even have to look at you to know you're doing it."

"I'm not putting on a show for you. I came here to be real with you."

"Yeah, well, excuse me if I'm having some trouble believing you."

"You have every right to—"

Fury bubbles up inside of him and he cuts her off. "You know what, no! We're not doing this. I'm not doing this, I've given you chance, after chance, after chance, and I'm _done_. I'm _done_ listening to you."

She looks breathless, shaking her head. "You're not even going to hear me out? You're not going to let me apologize?"

"I am _fishing!_ " he growls, losing his temper, completely unprepared for his own anger.

Archie whines, standing up uneasily.

Fitz takes a deep breath, trying to get his body to relax, counting backwards from ten.

"It's okay, I'm sorry. Lay down," he says quietly to Archie, watching to make sure he settles back down into the grass.

To her credit, Olivia seems to know that she shouldn't talk any more, now bearing the full weight of his pain on her shoulders.

"If you feel like you have things you want to say," Fitz says carefully, after a few minutes, "I would suggest that you sit down, and you _wait_. I'm fishing, and you're ruining it. When I'm done, we can talk."

It's a challenge, one that's meant to see how serious she is about apologizing to him. She eyes him defiantly for a moment, but he watches as she nods slowly and walks over to his chair, sinking down into it.

* * *

Judging by the movement of the sun, he guesses that a little over an hour goes by. It surprises him that she sticks it out, that he communicated to her what he needed and she's been able to give it to him. It helps to drain some of his anger, because at least she's trying.

She seems to be, anyway.

He breathes in and out, a long deep breath, and glances back at her. She doesn't look nearly as relaxed as he feels, brows slightly furrowed as she stares across the creek.

"There's water," he offers, breaking the silence.

Olivia startles, lost in thought. "Hmm?"

"In my bag, there's a bottle of water. If you're thirsty."

"Oh, no, I'm—that's okay, I'm fine."

"Suit yourself," he shrugs, training his gaze back on the surface of the water.

"It's quiet," she murmurs, after a moment, "What do you think about out here?"

He's feeling significantly calmer, now that he's had some mental space from her. "I try not to think about anything. That's kind of the point. I'm not very good at it, but I try."

She hums, stretching her legs out.

"I think about us sometimes, though," he muses, adjusting his line, "Especially these last few months."

"Yeah?"

"I had this realization the other day, standing out here, that…our relationship has been a hell of a lot like fly fishing. Not the peaceful, meditative aspect of it, but the part where I'm—I'm just standing here. I'm always just standing here, as this steady presence, and every once in a while you notice that I'm here. You notice, and then you bite, and you let me bring you in, but as soon as I do you start to flail around. You're terrified, and you flail around, no matter how gently I'm holding you, and then I let you go. I _always_ let you go. I never have any intention of holding you hostage, but you don't trust me at all, no matter how many times we do this dance. That's our relationship. It's fucking catch and release, every single time."

She doesn't say anything in response to that, and when he turns to look at her she's crying, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"Do you hate me?" she asks softly, eyes sad and vulnerable.

He takes a breath, thinking through how to word his answer. "No. But I _really_ wanted to this time."

"Fitz, I'm sorry," she breathes.

Shaking his head, he goes back to watching the water. "Don't."

"I'm _sorry_."

"Just, stop. I'm sure you're very sorry, I don't need to hear it over and over."

"Why are you being like this?" she pleads, breath catching.

"Do you even know what you're apologizing for?" Fitz asks, turning around completely for the first time.

She sits up straight. "Of course I do. I—what I did was _wrong_ , I know that. All of it, with B6-13, with Quinn—"

He chuckles darkly, starting reel his line back in. "You _don't_ know. You honestly don't get it."

"You won't even let me finish!"

"I don't need to hear you out, I know exactly what you're about to say," he sighs, wading out of the creek, toward the bank.

She waits for him to come out of the water, watching while he strips off his boots and waders.

"Look at me," she whispers, gently grasping his forearm, " _Please_."

Reluctantly, he meets her eyes, and the depth he sees there takes his breath away.

"I'm sorry that I lied to you," she murmurs, sincerely.

"Which time?"

Her face falls, and she lets go of his arm. "Fitz—"

"Are you apologizing for pretending to be sorry? Or, for pretending you needed me, when you really just needed a warm body?" he shrugs.

"That is not true," she gasps, the breath rushing out of her at that accusation, "That night wasn't—that _wasn't_ what that was. How could you even think that?"

"What am I supposed to think?" he spits out, throwing his arms open, "How am I supposed to believe that meant anything to you?"

"Of course it meant something, it _always_ means something!"

He shakes his head, un-phased by her emotional reaction. "You used me. You lied to me, and you _took_ from me. It's not the first time, and it's not going to happen again. It's _never_ going to happen again."

At those words, she breaks down for a moment, sobbing into her hand. It rips his heart into pieces all over again, but he _can't_ do it anymore. He won't.

"I hurt you, and I was wrong," she whispers, gathering herself, "And I'm sorry. Just, please know that I'm sorry."

He fights back his own tears, staring into her eyes. "You take everything from me. I give, and give, and you don't give me anything anymore. I don't have anything left."

Olivia looks desperate, shocked, chest heaving softly, hands shaking. "What do you mean? What are you saying?"

"You know, what did you think was going to happen?" he asks, starting to get annoyed again, "Did you think I was just going to welcome you with open arms? After you lied to my face like that?"

"We forgive, _always_ ," she tries to remind him, sniffling, "We promised, _you_ promised."

"I'll forgive you, eventually," he nods sadly, "But that doesn't mean I have to set myself up to get hurt again. That's not the same thing."

Suddenly, she uses both hands to angrily _shove_ him. "Why did you let me come here? Why did you let me build this up in my head if you had _no_ intention of—"

"—because I thought maybe you'd have something different to say this time!" he growls angrily, catching her wrists when she tries to shove him again, "Don't you _dare_ get angry with me."

She snatches her hands away, furiously wiping her tears. "You're not listening to me!"

"Because you're telling me what you think I want to hear! Not your truth!"

"I don't know what my truth is!" she cries, chest heaving, "Everything is _shitty_ right now! I don't know who I am, or what I want anymore! Everything that I thought I wanted, there was no point to _any_ of it, it was toxic, and I don't even remember why I wanted it in the first place. I feel like I'm just treading water, for the first time in my life, and I'm _terrified_."

He lets the silence grow thick and heavy, lets her words hang in the air so that he can savor them.

"Now, _that's_ real," he says gently, nodding, " _That's_ what I need from you. I need you to let me in, if we're ever going to have _any_ kind of relationship."

Olivia stares at him, almost as if she's surprised even _herself_ with her outburst, and then she sinks down into the grass, scrubbing her hands over her face. She stares out across the water, shaking her head slowly.

"They look at me so differently. They don't respect me anymore, and…I honestly don't blame them. But I don't know what to do."

 _Her team._

Fitz sighs, slowly sitting down next to her. "Well, things are different now."

"I know that," she says softly, picking at the grass, "I knew coming back, that it would be difficult. I wouldn't have, but, I—I don't have anything else, now. I had to take the business back."

"You betrayed them," he says simply.

She closes her eyes, obviously in pain. "I _know_ that."

"So what are you going to _do_ about it? Besides come all the way up here to complain to _me_ about it?"

Her eyes narrow at him, and then she sighs. "I've apologized so many times—"

"Actions speak a lot louder than words."

"What are you saying?"

"Have you considered that maybe coming back in as their boss wasn't the best move?"

From the look on her face, it seems she _hadn't_ considered this.

"You said it yourself, everything is different now," he continues, shrugging, "So why are you trying to pick up where you left off? Why are you assuming anything can be the same?"

He rarely sees her have a moment of realization, but he watches it happen now, and it makes him realize how lost she really is. She _always_ knows the answer.

"I'm an associate, now," she breathes, staring at him.

"Quinn's name needs to stay on the door," he confirms softly, nodding, "Maybe for now, maybe forever. If you want their respect, you need to _show_ them that you want it."

"God, _why_ couldn't I see that?" she sighs, shaking her head.

"Because you're used to being selfish," he says matter-of-factly, leaning back onto his forearms.

"You know, you're really being a dick today."

"Call it payback."

"Fitz, I honestly didn't come here for your advice," she says, looking exhausted.

"Then why are you here?"

She takes a breath, turning to look at him. "Because _you're_ here. Because I love you—"

 _His own words, from what feels like a lifetime ago._

"—because I got scared that I might've finally lost you," she whispers, tears in her eyes, "And I'm still scared, because I think that might be true."

He looks unbearably sad at that, brows furrowed. "I lost you first."

"You didn't—"

"—I did," he nods, "I lost you the second I stepped on that helicopter, the _second_ I left DC. I spent so many nights blaming myself—"

"—Fitz…"

"I don't anymore," he clarifies, taking a deep breath, "You made your own choices. You always have, especially these past few years. There's nothing I could've done."

Olivia swallows, blinking back tears. "So…I don't—are you saying that you're not—you're—"

"I think I'm saying that…" he starts gently, unable to resist being at least a _little_ bit sensitive to her obvious vulnerability, "…I'm not making the first move anymore. Does the fact that you're here give me some hope? Of course it does, and I hate myself for it, because I've been burned so many times. But if you want this, it's not going to happen overnight. I just can't do it this time."

"Do you even want to be with me anymore?" she asks, looking terrified of his answer.

"I—"

He breaks off and looks down, thinking, letting feelings he's pushed deep down come to the surface.

"I—I don't want to be with the you I've seen over the past few months, no," he says honestly, "I can't. You've hurt me too much. But—"

Her breath catches involuntarily.

"—but if you're as committed as you seem to becoming a whole person, getting back to being _you_ , then—I don't know. Maybe."

"I do love you," she whispers, as honestly as he's ever heard, "And I'm going to fight for you."

He smiles sadly, reaching out to brush away a tiny leaf that's fallen on her shoulder. "I hope that's true."

* * *

They journey back to the house in comfortable silence, both exhausted and lost in thought. It doesn't get awkward until they pause at the edge of the porch, glancing toward the front door.

"Should we…I can stay for dinner, if you—"

"No."

Her face blanches. "No?"

"No, you're not coming inside. I need to think, without you standing there in front of me. I can't _think_ when you're like this, when you're being rational and telling me that you love me, and I _need_ to think. With my _brain_. So, you need to go. And then, maybe—I dunno, maybe you can come back. And we can talk again," he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

Olivia nods slowly, looking up at the sound of an approaching helicopter.

"They knew you weren't staying," Fitz says, by way of explanation.

She clears her throat, looking out across the property as he comes to stand in front of her, waiting for her to meet his eyes.

"You can't hide out here," he murmurs, hands resting in his pockets, "You have work to do there, with _them_ , before we can—before we talk any more about this."

"I know," she whispers, wiping at the corner of her eye.

Against his better judgement, acting on instinct, he leans in and presses a long kiss against her forehead. He feels her breath change, feels her body crying out for the comfort, but he steps back, meeting her eyes again.

" _Show_ them, okay? I know you can. We'll talk soon."

She nods, looking at him with glassy eyes.

"Soon."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Just scratching the surface here, look out for Part II! I really needed Fitz to have a voice, because he so rarely does when Liv hurts him, and that's where this came from. Let me know what you thought!**_


	77. Catch and Release: II

Walking into the house in Vermont, even for the third time, takes her breath away.

It's beautiful, of course, with the high ceilings, the windows, the vibrant textures and rich wood finishes.

But what strikes Olivia the most is that it _smells_ like him, the way a home only does when someone truly lives there. It feels _warm_ , like a hug she can't see or touch, like her face is nuzzled into his chest with every breath she takes. It soothes her in a way she doesn't expect, takes away some of the nerves she's feeling, and she takes a deep breath, stopping just outside the great room.

"Have I ever told you that I dreamt about being here? When I was taken?"

She doesn't mean for that to be the first thing she says to him at _all_ , but somehow it is. He's standing beside her, and he turns to look at her in surprise, eyebrows raised.

"Really?" he asks softly, "No, you've never told me that."

Liv hums quietly, still looking around. "It was so vivid, maybe my brain was trying to cope with the trauma. I dreamt our whole morning. We…we took a shower together, and had breakfast. You were the mayor—"

"—were you making jam?" he asks incredulously, still gazing at her in profile.

She smiles, nodding. "Boysenberry jam. But we had a fridge full of the stuff, all different kinds."

"It _was_ a vivid dream," he agrees, not completely sure how to respond to her sharing.

* * *

The past six weeks have been some of the longest, most difficult weeks that Olivia can remember having, where time seems to move slowly and quickly all at once. She surrenders her position back to Quinn, and throws herself headfirst into work as an associate. At first, she has to bite her tongue every time she's given an order, every time she doesn't have the final say. But slowly, she starts to feel a change; when Abby makes a coffee run, she starts to bring back a few tea bags and a cup of hot water; Huck stops giving her a deranged glare every time she enters a room, opting for a glance instead.

Once, Charlie hands her baby Robin for a few minutes so that he can make a snack. She's not sure she breathes during the entire five minutes, holding the baby on her lap while they stare at each other cautiously.

And Quinn…

It's clear that Quinn still wants nothing to do with her. But one day, Quinn stops letting everyone talk over her, as has been the norm during brainstorming sessions. It's a welcome shock, an acknowledgment of her experience, her value to the company, and it's…something. Being able to voice her opinions again is, something.

* * *

"Want something to drink?" Fitz asks, walking toward the kitchen, "Iced tea?"

"Sure," she nods, following him slowly, still taking in the house.

He moves around the kitchen like he actually uses it, which is a silly realization to have because of course he uses it, he lives here. But, she's never seen him in a real house before, without staff, without people taking care of him.

She slides onto one of the stools lining the breakfast bar, watching as he thoughtfully pours two glasses of tea from a pitcher, sliding one across to her. They each take a sip, and then they're left staring at each other.

He looks surprisingly relaxed, and his eyes are kind, gentle, _much_ more familiar. "How are you, Liv?"

"I'm—" she stutters for a moment, completely thrown off balance, unable to get a read on him, "I'm okay. How are you?"

Immediately, he sees her nerves, breaking eye contact to look down for a moment. "Liv, the last time you were here I was really…hurt."

"I know," she says softly, taking a sip of her drink, "I haven't heard from you, I guess I just…I'm not really sure what to expect."

"I needed some time," he sighs, making the ice clink in his glass, "To not be so angry. I was seeing so much red…I couldn't see anything else, or listen to anything else. But, I—you've been through a lot too, and I know that."

She looks up, a spark of hope tingling its way through her chest.

"It's not an excuse," she murmurs, shaking her head, "To treat you like crap."

"No, it isn't," he agrees, walking around to sit beside her, "But it's not like I've never hurt you. I've been thinking about that day…did I—would you have listened to me, if I hadn't let your team come up here that day?"

" _Oh_ ," she breathes, caught off guard, "We're talking about this right now, okay—"

"—I mean, we could dance around it and pretend to make small talk or we can just—"

"—no, it's fine, I just wasn't—I didn't know what this was."

She gets up, and he lets her pace for a moment, watching the way she folds her arms and closes herself off, protecting her heart. When she stops at the windows, staring out across the property, he goes to her.

"Liv," he says softly, tentatively laying his hands on her shoulders.

She turns around, and her expression is guarded when she looks up at him. "I really did need you. I came to you."

"You did," he sighs.

"I trusted you," she whispers, shaking her head, "You lied to me, too."

"You didn't give me much of a choice," he points out, gently.

"I know."

She rubs her temples and starts to turn away from him again, but he gently takes her arm.

"Stop walking away from me," he begs, eyebrows knitted together.

Her breath catches, and she looks down to where his hand is closed around her wrist.

" _You_ asked for this. You called me," she snaps, pulling her arm away.

"After _you_ came out here and told me that you were ready to fight for us," Fitz breathes, un-phased by her typical combative response, "Did you change your mind?"

She stares at him, slowly realizing that she's being defensive, her expression softening. "No. I haven't changed my mind."

"Good," he says softly, letting the tension fizzle out of the air.

She's so used to attacking him, now. Even when he's trying to help her, or be truthful with her, and she's not sure when that happened.

Taking a deep breath, she looks around. "Where's Archie?"

Fitz smiles even though she's changed the subject, not expecting her to ask about his dog. "Sleeping, I'm sure. Archie?"

They both listen carefully for the faint jingle of tags, a soft thump against the floor. A moment later Archie trots happily down the hallway and out into the living room, stopping in his tracks as soon as he sees Olivia. Slowly, his top lip curls up and he growls quietly, tiptoeing closer.

"He hates me!" she gasps, looking at Fitz.

"Hey, stop that," he laughs, moving to scoop the terrier into his arms, "You be nice. I can vouch for Liv, okay bud?"

Archie immediately starts to lick his face, bumping his wet nose against every surface he can reach.

"Okay, hi," Fitz grins, ruffling his fur, "Hi, furball. Here, say hi to Liv."

Before she can protest, Fitz plops the dog into her arms. "Oh, wow, okay. Hello."

Archie tips his head to the side, eyeing her curiously, paws resting on her chest. He sniffs her enthusiastically, and then launches an affectionate attack, licking and nuzzling her. She bursts into laughter, closing her eyes against the fuzzy assault.

"Hi," she giggles, trying to pet him and hold onto him at the same time, "Alright, am I in, now? Are we okay?"

She sets him down, straightening her clothes, and finds Fitz staring at her. "What?"

"Nothing," he shrugs, glancing away, "It's just…it's nice to see you smile."

That makes her blush, unexpectedly, and she fidgets with her hair, trying to let the moment pass.

"Do you want to see the house?" he offers quietly, "The rest of it?"

He's offered to show her the house once before, the first time he'd brought her here, and she couldn't let him. She couldn't see it, couldn't let herself believe that it was real, that there was an entire house waiting to hold their love inside of it, a place that was just theirs. So, she'd pulled him down in front of the fireplace in the living room, and whispered that she needed him to make love to her, in _their_ _house_.

But her memories of the house are of _that_ moment, just the living room. Not their bedroom; the thought that _their_ bedroom existed was too painful. The rest of the house is still blocked away, fuzzy and undefined, like wisps of a dream she knows she should remember but can't.

Olivia looks up at the second floor and takes a deep breath, nodding slowly. "Show me."

* * *

"These are some guest rooms that I furnished. You saw that one already," he gestures, nodding toward the only room she'd seen the last time she'd been in the house, "They're all pretty much the same. This is where I keep the plants—"

"— _oh_ ," she says, surprised.

The side of the house farthest from the kitchen has a staircase, and another open area with wall-to-wall windows and a skylight.

"What?"

"Nothing, I just, didn't think you were a plant guy," she shrugs, bending to smell an enormous basil plant.

"It just sort of happened. When I started cooking I thought maybe I'd grow some herbs—"

"—you're _cooking_?"

"We'll get to that later," he grins, touching the leaves of a potted lemon tree, "So, I got the herbs and then things kind of took off from there. C'mon."

She lets him lead her up the stairs, trying to keep her breaths slow and even.

"These rooms are all big enough to be bedrooms, but only a few are set up that way. I'm sleeping in this one," he points.

She peeks inside quickly, noting his glasses on the nightstand, pajamas on the floor, a pair of slippers at the foot of the queen-sized bed. It's not as gutting as she thought it might be, seeing _that_ room, and she's relieved.

"Bathroom," he notes, continuing to walk down the lofted second floor hallway, "This is Teddy's room."

"It's cute," she smiles, looking around at the green and blue transportation theme, "He's into cars and trucks, right now?"

"And planes, trains, garbage trucks, monorails, anything that goes," Fitz laughs, "I wish he were here to use it more, but—I take what I can get."

She turns to him with a soft smile. "I'm sure he really loves it."

He hums softly, nodding, and then turns to go back out into the hallway.

"I finally have all my books in one place."

The next room is a library, packed wall to wall.

"Wow," she whispers, slowly walking along the shelves, "We have a lot of duplicates."

"I know," he grins, "Great minds."

They spend a few minutes in the library, poring over Fitz's vast collection, before he leads her back out into the hallway.

"Karen hasn't been here yet, but I do have a bedroom ready for her," he sighs, trying not to dwell on his strained relationship with his daughter, "And then those other two rooms are empty. I haven't really decided what to do with them yet, I'm thinking maybe one of them could have some weights in it or something."

"What's the room on the end?" Liv asks, pointing to a closed door.

He falters, opening and then closing his mouth. "That's…it's the master bedroom. It—it was supposed to be our room. I haven't been using it."

Her breath catches, eyes immediately burning with tears as she turns to look at the door.

"I thought—the room where you're sleeping—"

"No," he says quietly, stuffing his hands into his pockets, "I couldn't sleep in our room. Just didn't feel right. I designed it for us, and it wasn't us sleeping in it, so—anyway, it's still there, I haven't done anything with it."

"Can I see it?" she whispers, blinking rapidly, trying to control her breath.

"Of course you can," he says, smiling sadly, nodding her toward the door.

She stares into his eyes for a moment and then turns, walking the few steps to open the door.

If she'd felt breathless before, it's nothing compared to the moment she sees their bedroom. The door opens to show the corner room on a diagonal, giving her a sweeping view. The ceiling is vaulted, with dark, rich, exposed wood beams, making it feel open and airy, a feeling that's carried through with an entire wall of floor-to-ceiling windows; doors, she realizes, that open out onto a patio. The details make her raise a hand to cover her mouth; the stone fireplace, the chaise lounge in the corner, the _enormous_ closet. She stops next to the king-sized bed, brushing a hand over the plush, neutral bedding, the fluffy burgundy throw.

Instantly, she can picture them here.

This room is _them_.

She can picture herself curled up on the chaise, working, or reading, watching the snow fall.

She can see him drinking his coffee on the patio, opening the doors to let fresh summer air in to wake her up.

She can feel his body curled around hers in their bed, after a sleepy morning fuck; she can feel the heat of the fire against her back while she rocks in his lap; she can see the way his face would look in the firelight, hovering over her while they made love long into the night, tucked away in this _oasis_.

" _Liv_."

Her eyes open and she realizes she's nearly doubled over, one arm wrapped around her stomach, the other braced on the bed as she tries to breathe. Without thinking, she turns and slides her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder when he wraps her into a hug.

"I miss you," she whispers, sniffling, "I'm sorry."

"Shh, don't. No more ' _I'm sorry_ '," he murmurs against her ear, slowly rubbing her back, "You've said it enough, I hear you."

Easing her away, he gently cradles her face and kisses her cheeks, kissing tears away. Nuzzling his nose against hers, he breathes over her lips, kissing her softly. Instinctively, they both know things won't go any further, but they settle into the kiss for a moment, enjoying it.

"I love this room," she murmurs, wrapping her arms around his waist.

He grins, kissing her forehead. "I hoped you would. Did you see the bathroom yet?"

"No, show me."

He leads her into the en suite bathroom, flipping the lights on. "I was obsessed with this shower when I picked it out. I haven't even tried it."

"Is it a sauna?" she asks, opening the glass door to step inside and check it out.

"Yeah, it pumps steam out of separate vents. So you can use it as a sauna, a shower, or both."

Liv hums, wrapping her arms around herself. She steps out and walks around, running her hand along the side of the sunken, tiled bathtub.

"It's beautiful. All of it," she says softly, coming to stand in front of him.

Smiling, he looks around and takes a deep breath. "I'm glad you like it."

They stare at each other for a moment, settling into a new dynamic, feeling familiar waves of comfort.

"Are you hungry?"

* * *

"I don't think I even knew that I _liked_ chicken salad," she mumbles through a mouthful of her sandwich.

Fitz chuckles, crunching a potato chip. "Fresh ingredients make all the difference."

"So, let me get this straight. You learned how to roast an entire chicken? A whole one?"

"Yeah, but then I figured out that a whole chicken is a lot of chicken, especially for one person—"

She laughs, reaching out to steal a chip from his plate.

"—and I was getting bored just eating it plain. So, I had to figure out some other things to do with it."

"Hence, chicken salad," Liv says, taking another bite.

"Yup."

They eat in companionable silence, basking in the fact that it's not awkward, that they can enjoy each other's company again.

"How's work been?"

She swallows abruptly, wincing as the partially-chewed food stretches her throat uncomfortably.

"Sorry," Fitz grimaces, handing her a napkin, "Should've been less blunt."

"No, it's okay," she says, clearing her throat, "Work is…different."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she sighs, settling back in her chair, "It's been hard. But it was the right call, putting Quinn back in charge. She's _good_ at it, actually. It's a big change, but we're actually solving cases, helping people. We weren't doing that when I came back, they were fighting me at every step."

"What about…the relationships?" he asks carefully, wanting to know more.

She nods slowly, taking a breath. "I think when they saw that I was really, um…remorseful, things actually got worse for a while."

"They felt like they could really express themselves, once they knew you weren't going anywhere."

"I think so," she sighs, folding her arms, "There were a few weeks that were…really hard. I didn't have a voice in the room, I felt ignored. But, that's when I really felt—"

Olivia breaks off to swallow around the lump in her throat, trying not to cry twice in one day.

"—I really felt their pain. How betrayed they must have felt."

"That must've been difficult," he says softly, listening intently, "Dealing with those feelings."

She hadn't realized how long it's been since someone listened to her so completely, and suddenly she's clinging to his attention, hungry to be heard. "It was. It was awful, to realize how badly I hurt them. I care about them so much, every one of them, and I—"

Shaking her head, she stops to take a breath.

"—I can't remember my thought process for making those decisions. Honestly. I can't remember why I thought I needed to—I was so wrong. I don't know how I ever thought I was doing the right thing."

"I think you were trying _too hard_ to do the right thing," Fitz says, his expression careful and sympathetic, "The lines got blurred. I think, at the time, you really _thought_ you were doing what you had to do."

He always gives her the most interesting perspective, and she turns those words over in her mind for a little while.

Fitz lets her think, clearing away the remnants of their lunch, loading the dishwasher.

"Why am I here?"

She asks the question suddenly, on an exhale, as if it's taken all of her effort and courage to speak the words.

He looks up, meeting her eyes across the counter. "You're here because I've thought about you every single day for the past six weeks. Even when I tried not to."

"It's annoying, isn't it?" she murmurs, picking at her cuticle, "I can't get you out of my system either."

"I can't stop thinking about you and I'm not sure that I want to, anymore," he admits, crossing back over to sit beside her.

She looks up at him, hesitantly, refusing to let herself hope. "What are you saying?"

"I wanted to see you, because I thought maybe I'd recognize you this time."

"Do you?" she asks quietly, "Because I don't feel like the same person. I don't know _who_ I am, right now."

"I do," he nods, looking so _sure_ , "I see more of the woman I fell in love with right now than I've seen in years. You're not the same person, and that's a _good_ thing, Liv. I see you trying. I see you trying to grow."

"I'm just trying to make things right, I don't have any expectations—I don't want to push you—"

"—you're not pushing me, I'm coming to _you_ ," he breathes, waiting for her to look at him, "I'm saying that I want to do this with you, if you _keep_ trying."

"Really?" she whispers, cursing inwardly when her eyes fill with tears again, "There's still _so much_ that we haven't talked about."

"I know," he murmurs, "And I think we need to take this slow, we owe that to ourselves. But I also think that you deserve to feel safe with me, before we have those conversations."

Her eyes warm. "I always feel safe with you."

"Well, I love hearing that," he says softly, smiling a little, "But I want you to feel safe enough to be vulnerable with me, and scared with me, because that's the only way this is going to work."

"That sounds terrifying, when you put it like that," she admits, shifting in her chair.

"It _is_ terrifying."

"I want to do it, though."

Her eyes are clear now, and she looks so _determined._

They stare at each other for a minute, until the whir of an approaching helicopter breaks the silence.

"That will be my ride," she sighs, turning to look out the windows.

There's a mutual relief between them, a silent agreement that it's better to stop there, and let the day's events sink in. He walks her to the doors off of the living room, tipping his head curiously when she turns to him and takes a breath.

"I want you to know that—I'm not seeing anyone," she says, forcing herself to look directly into his eyes when she says it, "I'm not seeing anyone, in any capacity, and I don't plan to. And I'm not saying that you shouldn't, I just wanted you to know—"

"—Liv," he sighs, looking amused.

She flushes, looking a little embarrassed. "What? I'm not naïve. You're single, and unattached, and handsome—"

"You think I'm handsome, huh?" he teases, thoroughly enjoying the fact that this conversation has her flustered.

She rolls her eyes and turns toward the sliding glass door. "Okay, well, clearly you didn't need me to say that, so—"

"Olivia," he says softly, turning her around, gently holding her by the shoulders, "I have absolutely no desire to see anyone else. Okay?"

Liv tries and fails to hide how good that is to hear, unable to stop a little smile from spreading across her face. "Okay."

Since he's already initiated some physical contact, she hesitantly wraps her arms around his back, feeling the muscles there. He hugs her back, pulling her in so that he can kiss her forehead.

"I _do_ think you're handsome, by the way," she murmurs, nosing at his jaw, "I don't tell you that very often, do I?"

Fitz chuckles quietly, dragging his hands over her slowly. "Sometimes actions speak louder than words."

She tips her face up at the same time he angles his down, and they settle into kissing softly. It's a conscious effort to keep things at a simmer, and she pulls away before too long.

"I need to go," she whispers, resting her forehead against his shoulder.

"Mmm hmm," he agrees, squeezing his arms around her one more time, "Do you want to come back next weekend?"

* * *

 _ **A/N: Alright, so raise your hand if you guessed I wouldn't be able to finish this in two parts…damn but these two just have a way of going off script. Part III is already started, so stay tuned! THANK YOU for reading. Hope you liked this, and let me know your thoughts.**_


	78. The First Family Secret

_**A/N: Reminder, The Firsts universe is canon ONLY up until 5x05**_.

* * *

 _ **Teddy, 24 – Micah, 18 – Ruby, 15**_

* * *

"Owen is a jerk."

Teddy and Micah look up from their phones, glancing at each other and then back at Ruby. The three of them are lounging outside in the warm summer night air, hanging out after dinner during Teddy's visit.

She glances up to find both of her brothers staring at her.

"What?"

"We're trying to decide if we should ask you what he did," Micah says matter-of-factly.

"Sasha just told me that he made out with Megan last night. At that party I wasn't allowed to go to."

"Ah, young love," Teddy sighs, taking a sip of his beer, "That's the right attitude though, get mad. You don't need that."

"Can't you, like, stay away from guys until I leave for college? The fact that you're 'dating' makes me nauseous."

Ruby rolls her eyes. "I'm just supposed to stay a little girl? Perpetually?"

"Yes," Micah says, quite seriously, "It's weird."

"You sound like Dad. I can't believe he did that, we were _this close_ to going out. Why are guys so stupid?"

"Not even gonna touch that one," Teddy mutters, shaking his head.

"Maybe it didn't happen?" Micah suggests, trying to be helpful.

"Oh, it _happened_ ," she seethes, holding her phone out to show them the video.

They both cringe, shaking their heads.

"Owen, _buddy_ ," Teddy chuckles, "Be aware of your surroundings, man. This is the digital age."

"I'm texting him right now. We're so done. Cheaters are so gross."

"Well, I mean it's not _all_ bad, maybe it was true love," Teddy grins, unlocking his own phone, "I mean, you guys wouldn't even be here if Dad hadn't cheated with Liv, right?"

The extended silence that greets his comment makes Teddy look up again, and he finds both of his younger siblings staring at him incredulously.

" _What?_ " Micah asks, eyebrows raised.

Teddy's eyes widen. "Oh. Did you guys not know about that?"

"That's not true," Ruby argues, setting her phone down completely, "Mom worked on his first campaign, and they knew they had feelings for each other, but they didn't actually get together until _way_ later. After Dad got divorced in his second term."

"I mean, that's what they _told_ you guys, apparently," Teddy says, taking another long sip of beer.

"No, that's crazy," Micah decides, standing up, "Why would they lie to us?"

Teddy shrugs, as if it's obvious. "Umm, maybe because you're not supposed to have affairs?"

Ruby and Micah stare at him for a second, and then take off into the house at the same time.

Their parents are in their usual spot, curled up together on the living room sofa, flipping between various news channels. If they're alarmed by the sudden intrusion of their teenage children they don't show it, completely content, the picture of a rock-solid marriage.

"Did you and Mom have an affair?" Micah asks tactlessly.

 _That_ gets their attention and they both freeze; Olivia's fingers halt their slow, rhythmic movement through her husband's curls, and Fitz's eyes widen slightly. They slowly turn to their kids with identical expressions of cautious shock.

"Where did you hear that?" Fitz asks slowly.

"Teddy told us!" Ruby says, hands on her hips.

Fitz glares at his oldest son, who is partially hidden in the doorway, trying to make himself invisible.

"I thought they knew!" he says defensively.

"Oh my god, it's _true?!_ " Ruby shrieks dramatically.

" _Is it_ true?" Micah repeats.

"I mean, technically?" Fitz tries, scrunching his nose.

" _What?!_ "

"Holy _shit_."

"Language!" Liv hisses, sitting up, "Look, if you want, we'll tell you the truth—"

"—we _will?_ " Fitz moans, covering his eyes.

"—yes, we will," she sighs, turning the television off, "Because even though we didn't make all the right choices, we don't regret what we did. Do we?"

Fitz takes a deep breath, eyes warming when they meet hers. "No, we don't—"

"Alright, geez, can we not?" Micah cringes, "We know you love each other, we _get_ it. What's the real story?"

"Fix your mouth and sit down, little boy," Liv orders, pointing to the other end of the couch.

Micah's face reddens. "Yes ma'am."

He and Ruby both sit down on the adjacent arm of the sectional, and then the four of them look over at Teddy, who is still standing in the doorway.

"Me too?" he moans, "But, I was _alive_ during this."

"You started this whole thing. Join us, won't you?" Fitz says sarcastically, still glaring at him.

Teddy drags his feet, muttering something about being a ' _grown ass man_ '.

Liv raises her eyebrows. "Something you'd like to share with the class?"

"No," he says immediately, having learned _long_ ago that his step-mom deserves just as much respect as either of his parents.

Fitz plants both feet on the floor, scrubbing his hands over his face. "So…what do you guys think happened, exactly?"

"Mom has always told me that you guys met when she worked on your first campaign, and you knew you had feelings for each other, but you didn't date until after you broke up with Mellie," Ruby says slowly, typically the keeper of their parents' apparent love story.

"Okay, that's partially true," Liv says, tipping her head.

"Just start from the beginning," Teddy sighs, "It's really not that bad. Start from the beginning, and spare us anything gross."

Fitz makes a face, but he realizes it probably _is_ the best strategy. "Okay, so, the truth is…the truth is I didn't just have ' _feelings_ ' for your mom. I knew that I loved her the moment we met."

"But you were _married_ ," Ruby says, shaking her head in confusion.

"I was, you're absolutely right. And you might not understand this because you're young, but…okay, so there are different kinds of love, right?"

The three of them stare at him blankly.

"An example would be that, the kind of love that I feel for you guys, is different than the kind of romantic love that I feel for your dad," Liv says helpfully, jumping in, "Does that make sense?"

That slowly sinks in and they all seem to have grasped it, nodding.

"So, even within _romantic_ love, there are different kinds of love," Fitz continues, "And the part that's so hard, is that I'm not even going to be able to explain it to you because I could barely explain it to myself. But, I didn't even realize that I didn't love Mellie, until I felt the kind of love that I have for your mom. It's a _totally_ different thing."

"You were still married," Ruby says again, still not past the blatant infidelity.

"Yes I was, and cheating is wrong. But…marriage is really complicated. And by the time I met Mom, my marriage to Mellie wasn't a good marriage anymore. She didn't love me either."

"Then why didn't you just get divorced?" Micah asks.

"Because we were in the middle of a presidential campaign," Liv sighs, "And he wanted to be the president, and I _wanted_ him to be the president, and if he'd gotten divorced it would've ruined his image. And, to be honest, I was scared."

Ruby looks confused. "Of what?"

Liv pauses, taking a deep breath to collect her thoughts. "I didn't grow up wanting to get married or have kids, or even wanting to fall in love _that_ deeply. Meeting Dad made me want _all_ of those things, and it happened in an instant. That change was really scary, I didn't handle it well, and that's why I fought it for so long, and why it took so long for us to be together."

"Oh my god, I think my brain is exploding," Micah moans, rubbing his temples, "So you guys had an affair the _entire time_ Dad was President? As in, you didn't just gaze at each other longingly, you actually—"

"We were sleeping together," Liv confirms, making all three kids squirm uncomfortably.

"Off and on, yes," Fitz says gently, "Until your mom finally got over herself—"

"—excuse you, mister," she laughs, elbowing him.

"—and let me get the divorce I wanted all along—"

"Wait, wait, _wait_ ," Ruby says, looking as though she's realized something terrible, closing her eyes, "Teddy was born _while_ you were _still_ the president."

Micah gasps, looking horrified. "And he is _super_ white, so he _can't_ actually be Mom's. Which means—"

" _You_ can take this one," Fitz mutters, trying to hide behind his wife's petite frame.

"The path was bumpy, okay?" Liv says defensively, "There were times when Dad and I were apart. We all made a lot of mistakes."

"I was a _mistake?_ " Teddy gasps, looking completely devastated.

Olivia and Fitz immediately sober. "No! Of course not!"

He dissolves into laughter, collapsing back onto the couch. "I'm just kidding. I'm so glad you made me come in here, this is _really_ fun."

Liv seizes a pillow and chucks it at him, hitting him square in the face. "Not helpful, Ted."

"We're getting off track," Micah sighs, "So, what _really_ happened when you got together? When you and Mellie got divorced?"

"It was your mom," Fitz says wistfully, remembering their night on the Truman Balcony.

Liv smiles, nodding slowly. "Dad was ready way before I was, but, when I was ready to be with him…we just went all in. And it was messy, _really_ messy, for a while. Our affair actually was leaked in the news before we were ready, and I was getting hounded by the press—"

"It was in the _news?!_ Do my _friends_ know about this?" Ruby gasps, eyes widening.

"How the _hell_ haven't we heard about this in school?" Micah nods, looking shell-shocked.

"Mom and I have actually wondered that ourselves, we thought this day would come years ago."

"I can take this one," Teddy says wisely, sitting up, "Because of The Code."

"Oh," Ruby breathes, nudging Micah, "Of _course_. Wow, I didn't realize The Code would actually contain a secret this big. I'm impressed."

"What's the code?" Liv asks, looking confused.

"As our elder, you may explain," Micah says formally, gesturing to his older brother.

Teddy clears his throat. "The Code, as it is known silently, but deeply, by every private school kid with a parent in politics, states; In this digital year of our Lords, social media and internet gossip sites, thou shalt not speak of any embarrassing or otherwise damning sins committed by said parent of your adversary _or_ friend. Because whatever you say about someone's parents, someone knows something worse about _your_ parents, and if thou should speakest, thou shalt be burnt. And it is law."

Liv and Fitz blink slowly, staring at him.

"Wow. Sound serious," Liv says.

"It's very serious," Micah agrees, "You can gossip all you want about what's going on in school, or celebrities and stuff. But parents? We _all_ have embarrassing parents, and you just don't _do_ that."

"I kind of wanna cry," Ruby says, hand to her chest, "The Code really protected us all these years."

"What about history class?" Micah argues suddenly, brows furrowed, "This had to have been _big_ news, and you're in the newest edition of my U.S. History textbook. But all it says is that you were the first president to get divorced while in office, and bring in a new first lady. And then there's a part that talks about Mom's accomplishments while she was in The White House."

Fitz looks incredibly proud, wrapping his arm around his wife. "Your mom took care of that a _long_ time ago, didn't you Livvie?"

"Yep," she grins, "It's one of my proudest moments, blackmailing every textbook publisher in the country."

"Oh my god," Ruby says softly, shaking her head, "We're like the mafia."

"We're not," Liv giggles, "Don't be dramatic."

Micah looks like he's still in shock. "Why were you _so_ against us knowing the truth?"

Teddy scoffs. "They didn't want your childhood to be a soap opera like mine was—"

This time, Fitz hurls a pillow in his direction, nailing him in the side of the head.

"Why are there so many pillows on this couch?!" Teddy laughs, fixing his hair.

"Why do you _think_ we didn't want you to know?" Liv says, rolling her eyes, "It's our love story, but parts of it aren't exactly our proudest moments. It doesn't change anything, and it all happened before you two came along, we just didn't see the point in telling you. You knew most of it, just not the—the scandalous parts."

"Were you _ever_ gonna tell us?" Ruby asks incredulously.

"Umm, you know—"

"Alright, that's enough third degree for one evening," Fitz says definitively, rescuing his wife by physically standing up and pulling her off the couch, "It happened, now you know, we can all go back to living our lives."

"But—"

"Nope, we're all done now. Bye," Liv waves, as if they're embarking on a long journey, "Goodnight, Dad and I will be upstairs if you need us, but please don't need us. There's snacks in the kitchen, don't light anything on fire."

"You guys have embraced us being self-sufficient a little _too_ much, you know?" Ruby says, narrowing her eyes.

Liv gives her a _look_ , and she quickly _un_ -narrows said eyes, reaching for her cell phone.

* * *

They're silent until they get into their bedroom.

Fitz shuts the door and turns to look at her with wide eyes. "Did we _do_ that right?"

"I have no idea," she breathes, laughing nervously, shaking out her hands, "I feel like I just drank four shots of espresso."

"I mean, we told them the truth, and we glossed over the stuff that kids should _never_ know about their parents," he reasons, watching her pace back and forth, "I think it was fine. We did fine."

"I think you're right. I just wish I could've prepared more, that came out of nowhere."

"Well, I don't think we were ever going to be able to see that coming."

"Do you think they see us differently now?" she asks, looking a little panicked.

"Probably," he nods, "But…maybe it's not a bad thing? It's good to realize that your parents aren't perfect."

"But I _wanted_ them to think we were perfect," she pouts, sighing.

Fitz smiles, coming over to wrap his arms around her waist. "We did great. They're great. What have we always said? The most important thing is for them to see—"

"—a healthy, loving relationship. And that's always been our truth, what happened before doesn't matter. You're right."

Liv takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, calmed almost instantly by his voice, his warmth. They stand still for a minute while she decompresses, and he leans in to rest his lips against her forehead.

"Better?" he murmurs.

"Mmm hmm," she hums, nosing at his jaw, "Do we still have that bottle of wine stashed in the bathroom?"

Fitz grins, warm hands stroking her hips, her lower back. "Of course."

She unbuttons his polo, moving the material aside to press a kiss right over his heart. "And how's that stent feeling today?"

" _Oh_ , talking about my arteries, sexy," he chuckles, "Livvie, I'm fine. It's been four months."

"Energy's good?"

"My energy is good, my breathing is perfect. I feel great."

"Just checking," she murmurs, smiling into a slow kiss.

" _Mmm_."

She gently sucks his bottom lip. "So, do you maybe want to take a bath? Put one more door between us and the kids?"

He laughs softly, palming her butt. "All that talk about how we fell in love make you hot?"

"A little," she teases, nipping his lip, "Is that a yes?"

"It's a _hell_ yes."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Hiiiiii! I've gotten a couple requests for this scenario, and I finally wrote it! As an aside, I REALLY enjoyed the crossover! I'm not going to do a post-ep, because I'm working on Catch and Release III, and I think that universe is still covering all of the bases (aka Olitz still has the same issues, there's not much new to 'fix'). I hope you guys liked this one! Let me know, and thanks for reading!**_


	79. Catch and Release: III

"Why do you want to be with me?"

"Fitz—"

"No, I'm serious. Why?"

"That's like asking me why I want to breathe air," she sighs.

"Wow," he breathes, looking surprised, "That's really sweet."

They're on the patio off of the living room, throwing topics back and forth, talking about whatever comes up.

"Well, I'm not trying to be sweet," she smiles, sighing, "I'm trying to tell the truth."

"I know why I want to be with you. In fact, I've _told_ you why I want to be with you. But I need to hear why you want this. Why are you so all-in, all of a sudden," he challenges.

He's not bullying, or being forceful, he looks genuinely inquisitive.

"Because…"

She trails off, staring across the yard, deep in thought.

"Because you see me," she says softly, finally looking at him, "That terrifies me, but…I feel safe, because of that. You don't misunderstand me, you call me out on my crap, and I—I need that. And you're _good_. You're a good man. We've hurt each other but never on purpose, you would never hurt me on purpose, I know that now. I trust you, even when I act like I don't, and that's…that's everything."

It's not an answer he could have predicted, but it's _so_ nice to hear.

"And I love you," she says softly, eyes warming.

His breath catches. "I love you, too."

* * *

 **2 Weeks Later…**

"You're being _impossible_ , Fitz."

"Why? Because I want to have a conversation?"

"No! Because you're interrogating me!"

"I'm _not_. I'm trying to talk to you, but you're not in the mood to talk today, apparently."

"Do we have to do this _every_ time we're together? Is that a requirement for this relationship now?"

"Stop being so defensive."

"Answer the question."

"No, it's not a 'requirement', but this is how relationships work, Liv. People _talk_ to each other."

"Do _not_ speak to me like that, like I'm a child. I've been in relationships before."

"You're not exactly an expert."

"Neither are you! You talk a big game but you have just as many issues as I do."

"At least I committed to someone!"

"You _lied_ to yourself for twenty years!"

"And you couldn't even get that far! It's no wonder we're still doing this!"

"You act like you've been such an angel. You've made mistakes too!"

They stop, both breathing heavily, staring at each other.

"I think we'd better stop," she says quietly, blinking tears away.

Fitz nods briefly, immediately striding toward the front door.

"I'm going for a walk," he mutters, slamming the door on his way out.

Archie crawls out from underneath an armchair, whining softly, and for some reason that breaks the dam. She bursts into tears, sinking down onto the sofa.

* * *

An hour later, he opens the front door, half expecting her to be gone. But she's waiting for him, with Archie on her lap, and relief instantly washes over him.

He stops at the edge of the living room, staring at her apologetically. "Hi."

"Hi," she breathes, nudging Archie to the floor.

They take tentative steps toward each other, instinctually needing to _show_ each other that they're sorry, but not sure where they stand. Olivia steps into his chest and wraps her arms around him, nuzzling her face into his shoulder, waiting for him to hug her back. He holds her tightly, rocking a little, closing his eyes.

This is new, the hugging.

She's been more willing to let him hug her over the years, but initiating it, asking him to hold her, is brand new.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, rubbing her back.

She nods against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, too."

"I didn't mean it," he whispers.

"I know. Let's just…"

She trails off, but he understands.

 _One minute._

Fitz feels all of the tension drain out of her body as they sink into it, and his breathing automatically slows along with hers. As the minute ends, he kisses her forehead, holding on to her for a few extra seconds.

"Let's sit," she says softly, nodding toward the couch.

He follows her over and takes a deep breath, unsure of what to say. They eye each other warily, both cautious after their blow up.

"I feel like you want to fix everything, _right now_. You're rushing it, and I don't understand why," she says carefully, watching his reaction.

"I think I'm—I'm trying to get to the place where we can just _be_. I want that so badly for us."

"We don't have to solve everything before we relax a little. We can do that now," she says, shaking her head, "Can't we?"

His brows furrow, and he breaks eye contact, looking down. "I don't know why, but I can't."

Olivia tips her head sadly, frowning in thought, trying to read his expression.

And then her breath catches. "You don't trust me."

He looks at her sharply. "I—no, that's not—"

"It's okay to not trust me yet. To not trust _us_ ," she says softly, "I don't blame you."

"I—I just," he sighs, realizing that she's right, "I want to trust us. But I'm not there yet. And that's frustrating."

"I know, but that's why we agreed to go slow. It's _exhausting_ for me to go through this every time we see each other, I'm just being honest. I know we need to do it, and I'm trying, but—"

"I've been pushing pretty hard," he admits quietly, reaching for her hand, "I didn't realize."

She slides closer to him, reaching out to cradle his face. "I want to be with you, more than anything. But we can't force it, not this time. It has to be right."

He smiles sadly, turning to kiss her palm, closing his eyes. "You're right. I just want to be _us_."

"I know, me too," she murmurs, "We're going to get there."

* * *

 **2 Weeks After That…**

"Hi," he smiles, answering the phone and settling down onto the couch to talk to her.

"Hi."

His face falls, because her voice is soft and sad, like she's been crying.

"What's wrong?" he asks softly.

"I'm fine," she sniffles, clearly upset.

His brows furrow, listening even harder as if he'll somehow be able to see her face.

"Liv," he murmurs, automatically wanting to soothe her, "Tell me."

She clears her throat, and he listens to her try to collect herself, trying to be patient.

"I just wanted to talk," she says, tears in her voice.

"Okay, we can talk. I'm here."

She takes a shuddery breath. "I know, thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," he murmurs, pouting a little because of how sad she sounds.

"I just—"

She's crying, trying to talk through tears.

"I've just felt really _alone_ , lately—"

He closes his eyes, tipping his head against the back of the couch. He's been wondering if she would start to feel her isolation. She's slowly alienated every person in her life, and even though she's trying to repair things now, she's still very much on her own in the world.

"—things are getting better at work, but, it's still not—it's not the same."

"It's going to take time, Liv," he says gently, "Don't lose hope, okay?"

"They were my family," she sobs.

His heart breaks into pieces and the jagged edges poke him sharply, making it hard to breathe. _That's_ how difficult it is for him to listen to her cry, it feels like his chest is full of broken glass.

"Shhh, they _are_ your family," he soothes, "This is the hard part. This is the part where you have to give them time. You have to keep showing up, _keep_ showing them that you love them. The bond that you guys have doesn't just go away, it's there, Liv. I know it is. They're waiting for Quinn. They're waiting for Quinn to show them that it's okay to let you in."

"What if she can't," she whispers, "She almost died. Her _baby_ almost died."

"She _will_ ," he says, with certainty, because he _has_ to.

Truthfully, he's not sure things can be the same, that she'll get her family back. But right now, with her so upset, and so far away, he tells her what she needs to hear. She's feeling the loss, and that's the most important thing, it's not the time to offer anything but unwavering support and reassurance.

"I'm sorry to call you like this," she sniffles, "I'm not—it's not that you—I'm so _grateful_ to have you back in my life—"

"—but I can't be everything, and I shouldn't be," he reassures her softly, "Of course you're upset about being at odds with your people."

"I just don't want you to feel like you're a means to an end. We're separate from this."

"I know," he soothes, "I _want_ you to call me, okay? I'd do the same thing if I were having a bad night. I'm here."

"Okay."

She takes a few minutes to collect herself, taking deep breaths.

"Will you stay on the phone with me? Just for a little while?"

"For as long as you need."

* * *

 **1 Month After** _ **That**_ **…**

It's a long road.

More tears, more yelling, more _long_ talks, and a more deeply satisfying connection than they've ever experienced. It's not perfect, not even close to perfect, but it finally feels _real_ , and that's _better_ than perfect.

Things have been improving for her at work, too. So much that they're not seeing each other this week, so that she can devote all of her time to their current case.

Which is why Fitz is completely surprised by the helicopter that lands on his lawn at dinner time. He opens the sliding door with a bemused smile on his face, watching as Liv climbs out of the cabin and reaches back in for several bags, nodding her thanks to the pilot.

"Olivia Pope," he grins, when she's close enough to hear him, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She smiles, holding up the bags. "I can't cook but I place a mean order for takeout."

His eyes widen. "You brought me Filomena?"

"Mmm _hmm_ ," she hums, waggling her eyebrows.

"Gnocchi?"

"Yup, and _tortelloni di michele_."

"Oh my god," he moans, reaching to take the bags from her, "I have _dreams_ about this pasta."

She laughs, looping her arm through his as they turn to go back inside. "I know you do."

* * *

"I can't believe you surprised me," he grins, loading plates into the dishwasher, "That food was incredible."

She's staring out the kitchen window, watching the fireflies dance. "I know how much you miss that place, I thought it would be nice for a Friday dinner."

"It was," he murmurs, coming over to wrap his arms around her from behind.

Their breathing syncs and they stand together quietly, lost in thought. For the first time since they've been back together, he doesn't hold back from touching her, one hand sliding low on her stomach. He doesn't even think about it, it just happens, and he feels her breathing change as he nuzzles her neck.

" _Want you_ —"

"I _want_ you—"

The whisper it at the same time and laugh at themselves, melting into each other. Her laugh turns into a whimper when he hums and opens his mouth against her neck, laving with his tongue, biting gently.

Liv turns around in his arms, sliding one hand around to cradle the back of his neck. "I've been thinking about it, but I wasn't sure if you were ready."

He hums quietly, smiling against her lips. "I'm ready if you are. I don't think I can keep my mouth off of you for one more second, to be honest."

"Don't," she sighs, "Don't keep your—"

Chuckling softly, he leans in to kiss her, interrupting whatever was about to come out of her mouth. She moans softly, kissing him languidly, slipping her tongue into his mouth.

"Can we go upstairs?" she whispers, slowly rubbing his arms.

She hasn't been upstairs since the tour a couple of months ago, because she's wanted to be respectful of his space. But now, he smiles and takes her hand, tugging her gently toward the stairs.

* * *

The master bedroom is a little chilly after being closed up for so long.

Liv glances back at him as they slowly walk into the room, relieved to see his soft smile.

"Let me get a fire going," he offers, rubbing her back, "With the door closed, the climate control keeps it pretty cold in here."

"Fancy."

She wanders around for a moment, turning on one of the bedside lamps, and then sits at the end of the bed while he works on the fire, watching the muscles of his back move beneath his tee-shirt. When he's finally satisfied with it, he turns and walks to her on his knees, making her laugh a little.

"Feels nice," she murmurs, running her fingers through his hair, "Warm."

He smooths his hands over her thighs, pressing his thumbs into her hip creases, watching the way her eyes close when they ghost across her core. She cradles his face, sliding forward to bring him closer, hands moving over him absently.

"I'm glad that we waited a little while this time," she whispers, gaze moving between his eyes and his lips, "Until it felt right."

He hums, gently pulling her up to stand, looping his arms around her waist so that they're pressed together.

Her hands slip underneath his shirt to move in circles, rubbing against his warm, bare skin. Lifting onto her toes, she nuzzles her face into the space where his jaw meets his neck, kissing him softly there. He reacts instantly, his hands squeezing at her waist, breath catching.

Sighing softly, she tilts her face up, looking forward to the taste of him, to the feeling of his lips. She waits, kissing his chin, waiting, _waiting_ …

But he won't kiss her.

Why isn't he kissing her?

She opens her eyes, and the apprehension she sees on his face takes her breath away. He suddenly looks so… _scared_ , so unsure.

"Fitz," she murmurs, reaching up to cradle his face.

He blinks, pressing a long kiss to her forehead. "I…this is…"

"What?" she breathes, stroking her hands soothingly over his back.

"This is just…"

Watching his eyes flick back and forth between her face, and the bed, suddenly, she understands.

"It's our bed," she whispers.

His eyes lock onto hers and he nods slowly, taking a moment before he speaks again. "It's our bed. It's our bed, in our house, and I can't…I can't have this memory. I can't carry this around with me if I'm going to be alone. I can't make love to you in our bed if I'm going to have to—I can't make love to you in our bed, unless it's going to _be_ _our bed_."

 _Oh…this man. This beautiful man._

She rubs his shoulders and nods, looking at him as sincerely as she can, trying to help him feel safe. "It's going to be our bed."

Fitz looks into her eyes for a long moment, and she's with him, the gravity isn't lost on her.

He can't know for sure, he realizes, whether to trust her or not. All he can do is look into her eyes, and go with his gut, and his gut is telling him that she's in this.

She's there, behind her eyes, he can _see_ her.

"Promise me," he murmurs, leaning his forehead against hers.

She nods, chin trembling. "I promise."

The breath leaves her chest on a shaky exhale when his hands palm her hips, and he teases her lips apart with gentle brushes, waiting for her to relax before he finally settles his mouth over hers. She whimpers softly into the kiss, opening for him, letting herself fall into his warmth.

He eases her onto the bed, one step at a time so they don't have to stop kissing, groaning quietly when he lowers himself on top of her.

" _Oh_ …want you," she breathes between kisses, liquid heat pooling between her thighs.

"What do you want?" he asks against her lips, voice so low and soft that she can barely breathe.

He's enjoying himself now, relaxed and grinning as he tortures her in the best way possible.

"Make love to me," she murmurs, cradling the back of his neck, rolling her body gently beneath his.

Her hips relax and she melts into the bed, impossibly soft and open as his body melds with hers, close and _safe_. He's dominant, firm, but still _so_ gentle with her. His hands are so perfect, he knows where to be rough, and where to be soft, where she wants to be grabbed, and where she wants to be _held_. He's so focused, so _present_ when he's in bed with her, and it makes her crazy with need.

" _Mmm…_ "

She's so swept away by his kisses that she barely notices they've stripped down to their underwear, until he lifts her further onto the bed and so much of his skin is against hers.

" _Oh god…_ "

His fingers slide around her back to unclasp her bra, and he nuzzles her neck while he slowly peels it from her body. Her chest is _aching_ , and she immediately pulls one of his hands up, showing him what she needs. He nuzzles her breast, breathing her in, drawing her nipple into his mouth—

" _Oh_ …"

She whimpers, flexing her body up into him, focused on the heat of his mouth, the sharp pressure of his erection between her thighs—

"You smell so good," he rasps, dragging his nose over her heated skin, still palming her left breast.

She laughs a little, breath catching when he exhales across her ear, burying his face in her hair for a deep, slow inhale.

"I smell the way I always do," she says breathlessly, wrapping her legs around his waist.

"I know," he groans, rocking his hips down, " _Fuck_ …I wanna be inside you."

Her whole body shivers, hearing the effect she has on him, how badly he wants her. She moans, slipping her hands into his boxers, palming his ass to drag him harder against her.

"I missed you," she pants, moaning when he loops her thigh into the crook of his elbow, " _Fitz_."

He groans, because his most _favorite_ way to hear his own name, is on Olivia Pope's lips. She threads both hands into his hair and pulls him down into a kiss, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth, and he's lost in her.

Minutes later, their hips find each other, and she wraps her arms under his shoulders as he fills her, moaning with relief.

" _Baby_ ," she whispers, gasping, meeting the rock of his hips.

He groans, burying himself in her over and over. " _Missed you_."

Their kisses are messy but they can't stop, tongues sliding amidst shared breath and long presses.

Every time they do this, she can't imagine how they ever stopped.

She wants him forever.

In every position.

She wants to listen to him moan for hours, to feel the tremble in his hips when she tightens around him, to watch the way his ears redden and his eyes darken. She wants to feel the fullness, the warm, heavy pressure of his hips, the softest skin on his body against the softest parts of her, for the rest of her life, always.

She wants the pressure to keep building, to never fall over the edge, because everything about this is perfect. But—

" _Oh god, I'm coming—_ "

Instantly, he's focused, pressing in deep and rocking against her with short, quick thrusts. She gasps, chest heaving in sobbing breaths while she orgasms, nails scraping down his back. He moans brokenly, burying his face in her neck as he thrusts harder, spurred on by the rhythmic squeezing. Dragging her hands down to his butt, she helps him finish, sucking his earlobe and sighing when she feels him pulse. Warmth spreads inside of her as he growls, slowing his thrusts, rocking and rocking and rocking…

* * *

They're a boneless heap on the bed, a tangle of limbs, kissing and stroking sweaty skin.

His attention goes back to her breasts for a few of the most intense minutes of her life, pulling another orgasm from her oversensitive body with his thumb on her clit, his mouth wrapped around her nipples.

And they finally collapse, crawling under the comforter, intertwining themselves.

"The fire?" she murmurs, nosing her way into the crook of his neck.

He pries his eyes open to glance at the dying flames.

"S'okay."

She hums, drifting off almost immediately.

* * *

 _ **A/N: There's going to be one more part to this, shorter though, kind of like an epilogue. There are two more scenes I reeeeeeally want to write, they prob could have fit in here but I wanted to get this posted for you guys. Let me know what you thought, I hope you like it! Thank you for reading!**_


	80. Catch and Release: Epilogue

_**The Next Morning**_

The sun is shining in his eyes by the time he wakes up, and Fitz rolls over, yawning, trying to figure out where he is.

A slow smile spreads across his face when he remembers, and he reaches toward her side of the bed…but it's empty. He frowns, propping himself up, looking around. The house is quiet, and their clothes are still sprawled all over the floor, but she's nowhere to be seen. Then, he hears a quiet hissing sound and realizes the bathroom door is ajar.

 _The sauna_.

He climbs out of bed, not bothering with underwear, and quietly pushes the door open.

She's just visible inside the enclosed glass shower, sitting in the steam with her eyes closed. The hair and body products he'd stashed away for her have been moved into the shower, and she's clearly used them, her wet hair twisted up into a little bun. He grabs one of the same fluffy white towels she's wrapped in and secures it around his waist.

"You're in trouble," he says softly, opening the door and quickly stepping inside, trying to keep the steam in.

Liv smiles without opening her eyes. "Tell the truth, you picked this shower because you knew if I tried it, I'd never leave."

He laughs sitting down on the bench beside her. "Yep, that was my master plan. Now, what's the idea, leaving me to wake up all by myself?"

Her eyes finally blink open as she turns to him, automatically reaching out to smooth his hair. They indulge in a few seconds of goofy smiles, both remembering the previous night.

"Hi, Livvie," he murmurs, leaning in to kiss her softly.

"Hi. Good morning," she grins, cradling his face, "You were dead to the world this morning. Archie didn't even wake you up."

"Oh crap, did you let him out?"

"Yeah. I think he's scared of the bedroom? He was kind of hovering in the doorway, like he didn't want to come in."

"He gets freaked out by new spaces," Fitz sighs, "We had to work through every room in the house when I first brought him home. Something to do with his past, I'm sure, he was a shelter pup."

She frowns, upset by the idea. "We'll have to get him used to the master. I don't want him to have to sleep downstairs by himself, he should have a bed in our room."

Fitz grins, tickled by _so much_ of what she's just said. "You're pretty fond of the little guy now, huh?"

"We have an understanding," she says nonchalantly, trying to hide her smile.

Closing her eyes, she settles back against the wall again and sighs.

"Comfy?"

"Mmm," she hums, absently reaching for his hand, "How long have you had my shampoo in the cabinet?"

"Couple of weeks," he murmurs, eyes roaming over her glowing skin, "I knew we would get here. I wanted you to be comfortable when we did."

She sighs again, settling further onto the bench. "I am _beyond_ comfortable."

He chuckles quietly, unable to resist leaning in to press kisses against her shoulder. She hums, threading her fingers into his hair, encouraging the press of his lips across her collarbone. Her skin is warm and soft, calling to him, begging him to trace every inch with his mouth. She looks so relaxed and pliable, and one round of lovemaking hasn't even _begun_ to satisfy his craving for her.

Liv opens her eyes when he slides to his knees in front of her, lips parting a little, watching as his hands gently grip her calves. He massages the muscles there, nuzzling the inside of her knee with the stubble that's started to appear on his jaw, listening to the way it makes her breath catch.

 _Slowly._

His lips ghost over her knee, hands slipping under her towel and up her outer thighs, wrapping around to tug her forward a little. Gently, deliberately, he encourages her to spread her legs, moving his mouth to the inside of her opposite knee. He's not kissing her, he's just letting her feel the warmth of his breath, and it's slowly driving her insane. Her breathing is shallow, and when he drags his lips up the inside of her thigh she stops breathing altogether.

As he drags his lips back down her opposite thigh, he watches her slip her hand into the folds of her towel, cupping her breast underneath the fluffy material. Grinning, he hums and nips her skin, using his tongue.

" _Fitz_ ," she begs quietly, thumb tracing her nipple.

He finds the gap in her towel and peels it apart, revealing all of her damp, glistening skin. Leaning in close, he kisses her stomach, low across her hips, thumbs drawing tiny circles against her inner thighs. As soon as he's close enough she puts her free hand in his hair, panting softly, letting her whole body melt beneath his touch.

"I love you," he sighs, nuzzling her hip crease.

It's an _experience_ when he licks her out like this, with the torturously slow build-up, wave after wave of aching pleasure flushing hot and wet through her core before he's even touched her. Combined with the heat and steam of the sauna it's like an out of body experience; everything is tingling, her skin is on fire, her clit is throbbing—

"Love you… _ooh_ …"

Finally, he settles in and eases his tongue through her folds, groaning softly.

" _Baby_."

Her favorite thing about having Fitz go down on her, is how much of a joint venture it is. He already knows what he's doing, and he does it enthusiastically, but he's in it _with_ her. She's had encounters where she's expected to lie there and be _wow_ ed, and it's never happened. With Fitz, he's so invested in her orgasm that he _wants_ her to rock against his mouth, and pull his hair, and move him around. Even after all this time, he _wants_ to know that _'that feels_ _ **good**_ _, but today this feels even_ _ **better**_ _'_ , he delights in it. He's never come into the act with pride, with expectations, with anything other than the goal of making her feel as good as he possibly can. There's no hurry, he's content to be in the moment with her for as long as she wants, and _that_ lets her relax and fall into it with him.

He curls two fingers inside of her, easily finding her g-spot, rubbing slowly with the pressure she likes.

"You gonna come for me?"

"Yes," she whimpers, brows furrowed, " _More_ —"

She guides his mouth back down and then relaxes her grip, letting him work, because he doesn't need _any_ instructions right now. Whatever he's doing with his tongue against her clit is perfect, it feels so good that she _moans_ , and she feels him growl and pull her closer in response. It's erotic like this, propped up so that she can see everything he's doing, close enough for him to feel her heavy breaths.

When she feels it starting she whimpers, bracing herself for the onslaught, rocking her hips, tightening her grip in his hair, feeling the way she starts to soak his fingers—

And then she _falls_.

She falls and shakes and falls some more, and he's touching all of her most sensitive places at once, and just when she thinks she'll never breathe again he gentles…slowly easing her through the end of it.

" _Oh…c'mere…please, come here…sit…_ "

She makes him sit and climbs into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him soundly. It's all tongue for a few minutes as she tastes herself on him, still overwhelmed with aftershocks, completely lost in her man.

And then she rocks her hips down and realizes how thick and hard he is—

" _Fuck me_ ," she sighs into his mouth, blindly reaching for the edge of his towel, "I need you to fu—"

In half a second he's picked her up, ripped his towel away, and pushed her into the wall. Her legs knot around his waist while he presses in, groaning into a kiss as he starts to fuck into her.

" _Like that…oh, g—baby…ooh…_ "

* * *

That night, they sit in the ' _one minute_ ' rocking chairs, listening to the crickets.

"You still put the house together like I would be here," Olivia murmurs, looking over at him.

He hums, nodding slowly. "I wanted to. And I really didn't have a reason not to. We weren't exactly together when I was getting ready to leave office but we were…"

"Having a lot of _really_ great sex," she sighs, smiling.

"Right," he grins, reaching for her hand, "I just wasn't sure—before everything happened, I couldn't rule it out. I designed this house for you. You were going to be all over it, whether I set it up this way or not."

She blinks sleepily, staring at him, watching him look up at the stars.

"Fitz, I can't move here. Not yet," she says softly, carefully watching his expression.

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. "I know."

"I love you. I want you. You know that, don't you?"

"Of course I do," he murmurs, turning to look at her, eyes warm and soft, "I get it. Your life is in D.C. right now, I never expected you to abandon that."

"I need a little bit of time to figure out what living here means for my job. I don't want us to be apart, but I'll fly here as often as I can, every weekend—"

"—you probably won't have to come _every_ weekend."

Her gaze falters. "Why?"

"Well, because I just bought a place in D.C. If we don't feel like flying, we can stay there on the weeks I'm in town," he says nonchalantly, trying to hide his smile.

"What?" she breathes, staring at him in disbelief.

He turns and gives her an easy smile. "Did you really think I wouldn't meet you halfway, Livvie? Archie _loves_ riding in the helicopter."

She's up and in his lap before she even realizes what she's doing, kissing him over and over.

"This isn't catch and release anymore," she whispers, cradling his face, "I'm _never_ letting you go."

"Well, it's about damn time."

" _Shhh_ ," she giggles, kissing him again.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I loved writing this series! I'm hoping to write more post-eps, but we'll see what this last handful of eps has in store for us. Thank you for reading!**_


	81. The First Terrible Twos: II

**_A/N: I brought a tiny bit of Fitz's foundation into this one, and just decided to use his current canon work (criminal justice reform)._**

* * *

 _ **Micah, 5.5 years old – Ruby, 2 years old**_

* * *

"Nope."

Fitz sighs, glancing at his two-year-old daughter. "Okay, no yogurt. Cheese stick?"

"Nope."

"Grapes?"

"Nope."

"Carrots and ranch?"

"Nope."

"Guacamole and chips?"

"Nope."

"We might be out of options, Ruby girl. What do you want?"

"Mommy," she whimpers, face scrunching up pitifully.

Fitz sighs and scoops her up. "I know you want Mommy, but I can't help you with that right now. Mommy's in court."

"In court?"

"Yeah, she's in court. She's making sure a bad guy goes to jail."

"Bah-guy?"

"Bad guy, right," he says, kissing her temple, "But today is Friday, which means it's movie night."

"Pah-corn!"

"Right! We'll all watch a movie later and have popcorn, okay? Ruby, and Daddy, and Mommy, and Mo-mo."

"Mo-mo ooohl."

"Right, Micah's at school. Do you want to go play?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, we'll play for a while. And here, we'll take some grapes with us."

"Mommy."

He chuckles, rubbing her back. "I know. What do you want to play with? Should we do a puzzle?"

"Puzzle?"

"Which one? Can you pick one out?"

"Ducks. Duck one."

"Okay, let's do the duck puzzle," he agrees patiently, settling onto the floor with her.

"Nope."

Flopping over onto his back, he sighs. "You are _killing_ Daddy today. We don't have to do that one. Can you pick another one?"

"Umm birds."

"I mean, technically a duck _is_ a bird, but I know the one you mean."

Ruby stares at him.

He pops a grape into his mouth, shrugging. "I'm just saying. Do you want a grape?"

"Nope. Birdy one."

Finally, she grabs the puzzle and drops the box onto the floor.

"Daddy, _help_."

"Okay, I'll help you," he chuckles, dumping the pieces out and organizing them, "Are _you_ helping? Or are you just gonna watch?"

This time she doesn't answer, immediately fixating on two pieces that don't fit together.

Fitz lets her struggle with it for a few minutes, absently assembling the edges of the puzzle. "I don't think that's gonna work, sweet pea."

"Help _._ "

"You have to try a different piece, that one doesn't fit."

" _Help!_ "

"Here, how about this one?"

He hands her the right piece and she slides them together happily, making a sound of triumph. "'nother one?"

"Do you want to count the pieces?"

Ruby takes a big breath. "One, two, free, four, seven, eight—"

"What about five and six?" he laughs, reaching over to tickle her, "You're cute."

" _Cute_ ," she echoes, giggling.

"Yeah, you're pretty cute."

* * *

"Do you want to get the blocks out?"

"Bocks. Out," Ruby agrees, walking over to pull on the large tub of wooden blocks.

She makes an exaggerated noise of exertion, gasping dramatically. "Daddy, _help_."

Fitz tugs the plastic box over and opens it for her. "Here, you go."

She tips it over and claps happily. "Yay!"

"What are we gonna build?" he asks, chuckling quietly.

Before she can answer, the front door opens and the house is immediately filled with the sound of Micah excitedly recounting his day's events.

"And then at lunch, we were supposed to have chicken fingers but instead it was _pizza_!"

"It was? No way."

"Mommy!" Ruby shrieks, her face lighting up.

"Oh, I hear my Ruby," Liv smiles, glancing toward the living room as she helps Micah hang up his coat.

Seconds later Ruby appears, running toward her, arms already up. "Mommy! Mommy!"

Liv giggles and bends down to catch her, lifting the toddler to her hip. "Hi, little bug. How are you? Were you a good girl for Daddy today?"

"Nope."

"You weren't? Why not?"

"Hi, Mommy," Ruby sighs, with palpable relief.

Liv smiles, kissing her cheek. "Hi, baby. I missed you. Oh, good pigtails, Daddy. He did a good job, look how straight your part is."

She takes her shoes off and carries Ruby back into the living room, turning the corner just as Micah knocks a tower over, already playing.

"Hi, Livvie," Fitz smiles, standing up to greet her with a kiss.

"Mmm, hi. How was your day?"

"Borderline. The usual," he shrugs, sighing.

"Did she ask for me all day again? I asked her if she was good and she said no."

"Oh yeah, we are still in the throes of a serious Mommy phase. But I'll do, for the most part, right? Right, Ruby girl?"

"Daddyyyyyy."

"Now you're _super_ happy. Did you miss your Mommy?" he grins, rubbing her back.

Ruby is all smiles, turning to look at Liv adoringly.

"I missed you too, baby," she laughs, smooching her cheek a few times.

"I need to start dinner."

Liv makes a face, setting Ruby down on the floor. "Let's just do something easy, it's been a long week."

"Oh we are, don't you worry," Fitz says beckoning her into the kitchen.

Ruby whines, following at Olivia's heels.

"I can't hold you all the time, bug, you're getting too heavy for that. I'm _right_ here."

"I stocked up at Trader Joe's today. Take your pick," he says, pulling the freezer open.

She steps into his side and looks at the contents with him, offering Ruby her hand. "Hmm. Well, as much as _I_ want pizza, Micah said he had pizza for lunch so we should probably feed him something else."

"More pizza!" Micah calls from the living room.

"Good call."

" _Mommy_."

"Sweet potato gnocchi could be good," she muses, poking at the package.

"I'd still have to use a pan if I make that."

She turns and wraps her arms around his neck, kissing him softly. "I'll make it. You've done enough today, Daddy. Right, Ruby?"

" _Mommy_."

"Oh my _goodness_. Let me go change my clothes and I'll make it, okay? I bet my sidekick will help. C'mon, little shadow."

Fitz grins, watching Ruby follow her out of the kitchen like a duckling. Their daughter has been glued to her for _weeks_ , and Liv somehow takes it in stride. She's been transitioning between her work hat and her mom hat effortlessly lately, and he's in awe of her patience, the way she seems to pull energy out of thin air.

"Fitz? Just put out which pan I'm supposed to use, will you?" she calls from halfway up the stairs.

He laughs, opening a cabinet. "Sure thing, Livvie."

* * *

"Alright," Liv sighs, carrying Ruby back downstairs, "Let's make some dinner. What do you think?"

"Hungy. Eat it," Ruby agrees.

"Good, I'm glad you're hungry. You have to sit right here, I can't carry you."

She sits Ruby on the counter next to the stove, close enough for her to see what's going on.

"I think we better make both bags, don't you?"

"Yeah," Ruby nods, as if she has an intimate knowledge of serving sizes.

"Okay, I'm turning the stove on. Remember, we don't touch."

"Hot!"

"Right, it's hot. Want to help me dump it in?"

"Yeah."

"Ready, let's dump it."

"One—"

"Oh, you want to count, okay. One…"

"…two…free…go!"

Ruby giggles as they dump the bag of frozen gnocchi into the pan, happily crinkling the empty bag.

"We have another one, ready?"

They count and dump again, prompting Ruby to clap excitedly.

"Yay!"

"Let's just read the instructions to make sure—oh, we need to add a little bit of water. Here, want to pour the water in?"

"Yeah."

" _Great_ job. Now we cover it for a minute."

"'poon? 'poon? Cook?"

"We'll stir it in a minute. There's nothing to stir right now, it's still frozen."

"Juice?"

Liv glances at her, midway through pouring a glass of wine. "This is Mommy's drink, it's not juice. Are you thirsty?"

"Nope."

"Okay, then. Hey, what did you do with Daddy today?"

Ruby tips her head thoughtfully, still not really at the point where she can answer an open-ended question like that.

"Did you read any books?"

"Nope."

"Did you…color?"

"Nope."

"Did you do a puzzle?"

"Nope."

"Is 'nope' your favorite word?"

"Nope."

"Stop that!" Olivia laughs, grabbing Ruby and tickling her, "You're very cute, but _stoppit_."

"Mommy," Ruby giggles, in heaven with her mommy's undivided attention.

"Okay, I bet we can stir it now. Can you get a spoon?"

Ruby picks a spoon from the crock of utensils sitting on the counter, banging it against the pot lid.

" _Okay_ , let's not do that. Here, Mommy will help you."

Surprisingly, Ruby lets Liv help her stir, poking at the gnocchi pieces.

"If this isn't the blind leading the blind, I don't know what is," Fitz teases, strolling through the kitchen and opening the fridge.

"Shush, Daddy, we're cooking."

"Cook, Daddy," Ruby parrots.

* * *

Olivia shoos him into his office after dinner, taking both of the kids upstairs for bath time.

"Just make the popcorn in a little while. We'll be back," she winks, grinning as Ruby holds on to two of her fingers to climb the stairs.

"You know, the fact that you trust me to make your popcorn is really a beautiful thing."

Her laughter is pure and joyful, and it makes the stress of his day completely melt away. By the time they troop noisily back downstairs he's _missed_ them.

"Dad, are we gonna watch The Incredibles?" Micah asks, taking a running leap onto the couch in his fish-printed pajamas.

"Sure, we haven't watched that one in a few weeks. Hi, sweet pea."

Ruby toddles in next, wearing zip-up footie pajamas decorated with little owls. "Daddy, movie? Movie? Pah-corn?"

"Yup, we're gonna watch a movie. We have to wait for Mommy though."

"Here I am," Liv smiles, breezing into the living room, "What are we watching?"

"The Incredibles!" Micah announces, accepting his bowl of popcorn.

"Oh, good choice bud. We like that one."

"Okay, is everybody ready? No one has to go potty? Everybody has enough blankets? Everybody has a drink?" Fitz asks, running through their pre-movie checklist.

"Mommy," Ruby sighs, climbing into Olivia's lap.

Liv cuddles her and lets her cling, covering them both with a blanket. "C'mere, little bug. Ready, watch, Daddy's going to turn on the movie."

* * *

By the last half hour of the movie, Micah is asleep on the couch between them, and Ruby's dozing against Olivia's chest.

"Fitz, that's _incredible_."

"I know, I'm excited," he grins, stealing Micah's leftover popcorn, "I was expecting half a million, maybe one. But they're giving us five million."

"And you're putting most of it into prop ninety-two?"

"Yeah, I think non-violent drug offenders are the best place we can invest in reform right now. If we can shorten those sentences, and get some of those people out, that's a big step."

" _Huge_ ," she agrees, eyes widening.

Ruby drowsily shifts in her arms. "Mommy, milk? Milk?"

"Sure, bug," Liv murmurs, pulling the loose neck of her top down.

She sighs, watching her sleepy toddler snuggle in close to nurse, leaning down to kiss her forehead. When she glances over at Fitz, he's watching them tenderly.

"I thought we were going to be done," she murmurs, kissing Ruby again.

"I know," he says, smiling gently.

"She dropped her morning session, and then at night she started asking every other day or so. Then she hit this clingy stage, and she's been asking every night. I knew she would nurse longer than he did, she just needs it more. But I never thought we'd still be nursing a week from her second birthday."

"I think she's making huge developmental strides right now, that's why she's so clingy."

"Yeah, her language has exploded lately."

"Are you ready to be done?"

Liv stares down at Ruby, watching her eyes get heavier and heavier. "I think when she's ready, I'll be ready. I think because she only asks at night I don't mind it as much. It feels like she just wants to snuggle, more than anything. How can I say no to that?"

"I could never say no," Fitz smiles, "She's a handful sometimes but she's _so_ damn cute."

" _Right?_ We made cute kids."

* * *

 _ **A/N: The littles are back! There was really no point to this one other than me dying over two-year-old Ruby lol. Hope you enjoyed it!**_


	82. The (Blurred) Line

_**A/N: 7x14 post-ep/scene inserts. I couldn't pick just one scene to do an insert for so I chose two, haha.**_

* * *

Fitz is on his way to give his condolences when he hears it happening.

" _She was_ _ **better**_ _than you…_ "

He quickens his footsteps, realizing that he doesn't hear her responding at all.

" _She followed you into the swamp and it_ _ **sucked her under**_ _—_ "

"Mr. Francis," he interrupts sharply, stopping the tirade.

He catches a glimpse of Liv's face right before she turns away, facing the back wall, and his heart breaks.

"Mr. Francis," he repeats, summoning all of his compassion, "I am deeply, _deeply_ sorry for your loss. I want to take care of any funeral arrangements, if that's alright."

The grieving man rises from his chair, casting one more sidelong glance at Olivia's back. "That won't be necessary."

"Well, if you reconsider, please let us know," Fitz offers sadly, "Can I have Marcus walk you out?"

"I'll see myself out."

He watches Gary Francis trudge away, nodding to Marcus anyway so that he can make sure he exits the building safely. Turning back to Olivia, he takes a deep breath, wondering if she's going to snap at him for trying to comfort her.

"Liv," he says gently, hands in his pockets, "This isn't on you, Liv. You know that."

She doesn't say anything, she doesn't even move, still turned away from him.

Brows furrowing, he takes a couple of steps toward her. "It wasn't your fault."

One of her hands comes up to cover her mouth, but she still doesn't say anything, frozen in her chair.

"Liv?"

He walks around so that he can see her face, and—

 _Oh_.

Oh, she's having a panic attack.

She's having a silent panic attack, in his conference room.

"Shit," he mutters, crossing the room in long strides to press the button that lowers the privacy shades, covering the glass.

When he gets back to her she's one shade lighter than she was before, and it makes adrenaline pulse through him. She's trying to breathe, one hand over her mouth, eyes squeezed shut. Everything else falls away, everything that's happened over the last few months, and his focus narrows.

He kneels in front of her and puts his hands over her thighs without a second thought. "Liv, you have to breathe. Olivia, look at me."

For a few nauseating seconds she doesn't acknowledge him, still covering her mouth with one hand, squeezing the arm of her chair with the other.

"Look at me," he urges, a little stronger this time.

Her eyes snap open, and her whole torso convulses as her chest heaves with a gasp of air.

" _Good_ ," he sighs, gently pulling her hand away from her mouth, watching her eyes move wildly around the room, "Right here, look right here."

Finally, her eyes lock onto his, at the same time she starts to hyperventilate. This is the most unfortunate kind of familiar territory for them, and he holds her terrified gaze, giving her something to focus on. It makes his own chest ache, watching her struggle to take deep breaths.

"Slow it down. _Easy_. Focus, you can do it. There you go."

Her lips part and round as her uneven breaths start to get a little deeper, moving more air each time, eyes focused on his like they're a lifeline. She's patting her chest with one hand, something she often does to remind herself that she's supposed to be breathing, and he gently pries her other hand from the chair.

"Keep breathing. Slow it down."

As soon as she's moving enough air for her brain to focus on anything else, she melts out of the chair and onto the floor, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"You're okay," he murmurs, pulling her in close so that she can feel his breaths, "Let's just breathe, okay? Nice and steady."

Fitz feels her nod and try another deep breath, a little sound escaping on her exhale. For the first few minutes her breathing pattern isn't even close to his, still choppy and panicked. But eventually she starts to get control, and he can feel her body relaxing as oxygen starts to flow freely again.

"Even slower," he says softly, pulling her focus back.

He breathes extra slowly, until he feels her match him, and then lets his breath settle into a normal rhythm.

"There. You're okay…you're okay."

He's never the first one to let go after she's had a panic attack, letting her decide when she's comforted. Even though they're in a very different place right now, in this moment it doesn't seem to matter, and she lets him hold her the way she always does.

"It happened so fast," Liv whispers, still hugging him, "I felt it coming, and I tried—sometimes I can stop them now, but, then I couldn't breathe—"

He rubs her back in a slow circle. "I know. It's okay, it's not your fault."

They're quiet for a moment after that, until she slowly moves out of his arms and back into her chair. He watches her smooth her hair and swipe her thumbs underneath her eyes, collecting herself, taking inventory. She takes a deep breath and looks at him, squaring her shoulders.

"Okay?" he asks, smiling gently.

"Yeah," she breathes, nodding, taking another deep breath.

"Want a minute?"

She nods again, and he stands up to leave, but before he can walk past her she takes his arm.

"Thank you," she says softly, looking at him gratefully.

He gives her a soft smile, taking her hand. " _Anytime_."

* * *

She talks with Megan for over two hours, prepping her for the press conference, going over what she plans to say. When they're finished, she realizes that her whole body is buzzing with…something.

Adrenaline?

Olivia can't name the feeling, only that it's familiar, and that it feels _good_. It feels good to be doing this kind of work again, and now she's not sure why she ever stopped. After she sends Megan back down in the elevator (accompanied by security detail for the next twenty-four hours), she goes back to Fitz's office for her bag, not at all expecting him to still be around.

But, there he is, working under the light of his desk lamp.

"How did it go?" he asks, looking up when she comes in.

"Really well," Liv breathes, collecting her things, "She's strong. I think…I think she's going to do something really incredible."

He smiles, nodding. "That's great."

"I hope so," she sighs, adjusting her stack of papers, "I should head out. I have more prep to do."

"Okay," he says quietly, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

As she heads toward the door of his office, not one cell in her body wants to go home to her empty apartment, to a bowl of popcorn and a glass of wine. After spending the day with him, everything in her wants to stay and work _here_ , even if they're just in the same room. Being _anywhere_ with him is better than being alone.

And suddenly, she realizes she has nothing to lose.

She pauses in the doorway, long enough that—

"Liv?"

She turns around and shifts hesitantly from one foot to the other. "Are you—do you maybe want to order some dinner?"

His face is stoic as he takes a breath, thinking, leaning back in his chair. "Depends."

"On what?" she asks, preparing for a serious question.

"Are you thinking thai, or chinese?"

And then she realizes he's messing with her, and she _smiles_.

* * *

"Did you not eat lunch?"

Fitz pauses, copious amounts of noodles hanging out of his mouth. He looks like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, and it makes her laugh, which makes _him_ laugh.

"Sorry, I didn't realize I was scarfing," he snorts, swallowing his mouthful of food.

"I always forget how fast you eat," Liv grins, plucking a piece of chicken from her container with chopsticks.

"Holding an office will do that. I'm not used to having time just for eating."

"I seem to remember giving you time to eat, when I was in charge of your schedule."

It feels like he's opened a door for them, talking about the past, and she walks through it again, feeling him out.

Fitz grins, digging his chopsticks into the noodles again. "Yeah. You were good about that."

They eat in companionable silence for a few minutes, and she tries not to fall _too_ deeply into the feelings of comfort that wash over her whenever they're together like this.

"Can I ask you something?"

He looks up from his meal, nodding. "Of course."

She tips her head. "Was there _any_ part of you that thought you'd crossed a line? Really?"

Fitz sets his food down, leaning against his knees. "With you? No. But I mean, I—I've learned so much the past few days, about the subtlety of things, and I just thought—I was afraid that maybe at first, I did cross a line, and then later, after we got to know each other a little better—"

"I didn't feel taken advantage of for one _second_ ," she says sincerely, shaking her head, "I don't want that anywhere in your head, okay? Everything you felt, I felt it too. The fact that you're wondering, and that you _asked_ me, it's—you're a good man, Fitz."

He looks relieved all over again, but it disappears after a moment. "I don't know about that."

"Why?" she asks softly.

"Because you're not the only woman I've slept with in the past forty years," he sighs, reclining back against the couch, looking up at the ceiling, "And I never—I would _never_ coerce a woman like that, it makes me sick to even think about it, but now I'm wondering…how many of them thought—how many of them _felt_ —"

He glances at her, but she's just listening, letting him talk things through.

He's _missed_ her.

"—I was in a position of power and I didn't think about what that means. I was irresponsible, and I did things I shouldn't have. It's not okay."

"It's not okay," she agrees, "And I can't sit here and promise you that every woman you—that those women slept with you _solely_ because they wanted to. I don't know what any of them were thinking. But I _can_ tell you, that _you_ , are not the kind of man we're fighting against."

"No?" he says flatly, "I'm old and white, aren't I?"

She laughs, relaxing into the couch. "Those are strikes against you, for sure. But…"

Trailing off, she takes a moment to look at him, to _really_ look into his eyes for the first time in a while.

"You're not that kind of man. You're just not. I'm a woman, and I've worked on The Hill, so I know the ins and outs of this painfully well, and—"

Liv breaks off again, still looking at him, drawing in a long breath.

"I've slept with you, so I know firsthand that you—you _listen_ ," she says softly, cheeks flushing a little, "You listen, and you pay attention, and you're not just in it for yourself. If there had been _any_ sign, that anything wasn't completely consensual, you would have known. And you would've stopped, long before anything got out of hand. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah," he murmurs, nodding slowly, "It does. Thank you."

* * *

As the food settles in her stomach, she feels exhaustion pulling at her and glances at her watch.

"It's late," she says, reluctantly, "I should get home."

"I didn't even realize, me too."

There's a sense of sadness as they clear away their food and pack up, because it's been so nice to sit and talk, neither of them wants it to end. But it is late, and they _do_ have jobs to get to in the morning.

 _Important ones._

"Do you think Megan's ready?" he asks, walking her to her car.

"I actually do," Liv breathes, turning to lean against it, "I'm…I feel good about this."

He grins. "Good. I'm sure you did a great job prepping her. You'll stop by after?"

"I will," she agrees softly, nodding.

"Okay. Well," he breathes, hovering for a moment, "Get home safe. Goodnight."

Fitz turns to walk away, but before he gets too far—

"Hey."

He turns around, raising his eyebrows at the expression on her face.

She looks nervous, almost agitated, her breaths coming quickly. "Why do you have so much faith in me? Even when you're angry with me, you still…somehow—why?"

Fitz's face relaxes, like he's never been asked an easier question, and he walks back over to her. He stops in front of her, fighting the urge to smooth her furrowed brows with his thumb, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Because I know your heart," he says softly, "And I'll know it, _always_. Whether we're just friends, or a couple, or anything in between…I know you, and I know who you are. You're a good person, Olivia. You are. I get frustrated when I see you doing the wrong thing, because I know you're not listening to your gut. That's not who you are. _This_ is who you are."

She's looking at him with tears in her eyes, shaking her head a little as if she can't believe he's real, that he's still here believing in her after all this time. Everything about this night has been so familiar, so comforting, so _real_ that he doesn't fight the urge to step in closer to her.

Fitz realizes he's doing exactly what she'd described earlier; watching her face, listening to her breath, looking for signs that she's not ready, that she doesn't want him this close to her. But she's not giving him any of those signs. She reaches out and takes two handfuls of his shirt, stepping back and gently pulling him with her, until she's leaning on her car for support. There's no question what she wants, and it's what he wants, too.

When they kiss it's gentle and quiet, a _goodnight_ kiss.

A soft press of lips, and then another, and then one more.

It feels natural to stop there, for him to lean his forehead against hers for a moment, breathing quietly, smiling against her mouth.

"Goodnight, Liv," he murmurs, stepping away from her.

Her eyes take another moment to drift open, and when they do she smiles, too. "Goodnight, Fitz."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Oh, my Olitz-loving heart. I *loved* this ep, you guys. I had so many ideas, I didn't even know where to start lol. Starting to get nostalgic about the end! I'm going to miss getting really HYPE after a good ep and then writing like crazy for two days. I hope you guys liked this one, let me know!**_


	83. The First Solo Morning

**Micah, 5 years old – Ruby, 2 years old**

"I really feel like I should have done school drop-off before this, just so we'd be prepared," Fitz sighs, scrubbing his hands over his face.

Liv shrugs, folding a pair of pajamas into her suitcase. "It's really not a big deal. You go in with him, you hang up his coat, it takes two minutes."

"Right, but you're forgetting I'm going to have little miss with me, too. Maybe I can leave her in the car—"

"That's not allowed. You'll get a fine."

He raises his eyebrows. "A _fine?_ For leaving my own kid in my own car?"

"It's the twenty-first century, they can fine you for anything," she laughs, considering two different jackets, "You're Super Dad, you'll be able to handle it no problem."

"People are going to stare at us."

She turns to look at him, noticing that he really does seem distressed about that.

"Probably," Liv says gently, coming to sit on the bed with him, "But that sometimes happens whether you're with us or not."

"I'm not—I know it comes with the territory. But I don't _want_ that for him, I don't want him to feel different. When he was really little he didn't notice, I wasn't worried about it, but now…he'll feel it. He'll know."

"But we also agreed that we didn't want a nanny. We decided that we were going to raise them, and we were going to figure it out, just like other parents do. I think this is part of that. I want _us_ to be the ones they run to at the end of the day, not a nanny. And that means being out in public with them."

"I know," he sighs, raking a hand through his hair, "You're right, I'm not going back on what we decided. Just—can't you just postpone this California trip until the summer?"

She laughs quietly, squeezing his arm. "You guys will be fine, it's only four mornings."

* * *

 **Day 1**

"Ruby, hold my hand please."

Ruby whines, still trying to pull her hand away.

"Hey," Fitz says, looking down at her, "It's not optional. You need to hold Daddy's hand, there are cars."

She pouts, writhing her arm in his grasp. "No, Daddy."

"I know," he sighs, "Life is really hard someti—Ruby Elise, stand _up_. Do you have your backpack, Micah?"

"Yup," Micah chirps, hopping out of the SUV.

"Alright, let's go. Hey, guys, give us a little space would you?"

The secret service agents fall back slightly. There are two extra agents with them at the moment, and the increased spectacle of it all is why he typically _doesn't_ bring Micah to school. Ruby finally stops whining when they walk inside the school, and Fitz smiles politely at all of the parents who are staring at them in shock.

"C'mon Dad!"

"We're coming. Hi. Good morning. Is this your classroom?"

"Not _that_ door, Dad. That's the 'out' door, we gotta go in over here."

"Oh, geez, okay."

He lets Micah lead him to the right door, dragging Ruby along with them as she stares around in wonder at all the other kids.

"Let's get your coat off."

"No, first we put my water bottle down!"

"Oh, okay sorry. Didn't know about that. It goes right here?"

"Yep," Micah says, setting his bottle down, "Now we go this way!"

Ruby yanks her hand out of Fitz's grasp and runs toward the toys in the room, immediately going for the play kitchen.

Fitz sighs. "Alright, well, I guess that's—"

"Dad!"

"Hey, buddy, right here. Is this where we put your coat?"

"The centers are closed, sweetheart," a well-meaning classroom aid admonishes, gently shooing Ruby back toward Fitz, "President Grant, if you could just do us a favor and keep her nearby, the centers are closed, we don't open them until later in the morning."

He must look _incredibly_ confused, because the smiley teacher continues.

"The 'centers' are the play kitchen, the blocks, the dress-up. All of these areas here."

"Right, sorry," Fitz nods, putting on his best fake smile as he takes Ruby's hand, "Stay here with Daddy, okay?"

 _She's two. She doesn't give a_ _ **fuck**_ _if they're open or closed._

"Banana!" Ruby points, pulling on his hand, "Nanana-banana."

"I know, there's a banana, but that's not yours. Okay, Micah, did you find your nametag?"

"Got it!" Micah announces, finally, "Now we gotta put it on a center."

He leads them over to a board filled with Velcro squares, a few in each of the "center" categories.

"Oh, you're supposed to pick one, I see," Fitz muses, glancing down to where Ruby's still yanking on his hand, "Ruby, calm yourself please. Well, which one did you do yesterday? Oh, excuse me."

Fitz leans out of the way so another kid can run up and smack his nametag against the board.

"Umm, yesterday I did the kitchen."

"So—Ruby, _stop_ —you should probably pick something else today, huh?"

"I wanna do dress-up today!"

"Okay, great!" Fitz sighs, letting go of Ruby's hand when she calms down, "Stick it up there, and then I'll see you in a few hours okay?"

"No, Dad! I didn't answer my question yet."

"What question?"

"C'mon Dad! We go this way now."

He lets Micah take his hand and pull him across the room toward his teacher.

"Wait, where's your sister. Ruby—"

The same classroom aid from before is leading her back across the room, wearing a fireman's hat. "President Grant, I'm sorry, the centers are closed—"

"Yes, I remember. Thank you," he sighs, picking Ruby up, removing the hat, "Not yours, little lady."

"Hat! My hat!" she screeches, devastated to have lost her hat.

" _Not_ your hat—"

"Dad! C'mere!"

"Coming! Okay, here we go, what's this about a question?"

Ms. Patterson, Micah's teacher smiles brightly at them from next to her desk. "Good morning, Micah! I see you have Dad with you today, that's pretty exciting!"

"Yeah, umm, 'cause Mommy had to go to, umm, to umm, Califor-na to go to work," Micah explains, hopping from one foot to the other.

"Oh, okay," Ms. Patterson says, nodding.

"This is quite the operation you have here," Fitz smiles, hefting Ruby on his hip when she squirms.

"Down?" the toddler requests, batting her eyelashes, "Down, _please?_ "

"Nice try," Fitz coos, smacking a kiss against her cheek.

"Are you ready for your question?" Ms. Patterson asks.

"Yeah!" Micah says excitedly.

"Okay, which word rhymes with 'go'…'out', or 'snow'?"

"Snow!" he answers immediately.

"Yes! High five! Great job, go sit on the carpet please."

"Bye, Dad," Micah blurts out, running toward the carpet to sit with the other kids.

Fitz raises his eyebrows. "Oh, we're—okay, we're done. Bye, bud! Let's go, little troublemaker. I know, you just wanted to play, huh?"

* * *

 **Day 2**

"We forgot my _water_ ," Micah whines, slumping dramatically.

The next day, Fitz is determined to have everything together, but right away they're off to a bad start.

"Oh…I'm sure if you're thirsty you can go get a drink. It's okay," he reassures him hopefully, rubbing Ruby's back.

She's tired this morning, content to let Fitz carry her.

"But I don't _like_ the water fountain."

That one thing is enough to set the wrong tone, and Micah's weepy for the rest of the process, perking up briefly when Ms. Patterson greets him.

"Good morning, Micah! Are you ready for your question?"

He answers correctly, but instead of running away happily he attaches himself to Fitz's leg.

"Don't _leave_ , Daddy."

"Buddy," Fitz says, bewildered, "What's the problem? You're going to stay and have so much fun!"

" _I don't want you to go_."

Sensing that things are about to get _really_ dramatic, Fitz moves them out of the way so another child can come up to answer their question. He crouches down in front of Micah, setting Ruby on her feet next to them.

"Hey," he says softly, "I'm going to come back in just a little while, right? Don't we _always_ come back?"

Micah nods reluctantly. "Yeah."

"Right. So, you're going to go have fun with your friends, and Ms. Patterson, and then I'm going to come back and get you, I promise."

"And, umm, and we can have soup?"

Noodle soup has been his lunch of choice lately, and Fitz smiles. "Yup, we'll have soup for lunch. Deal?"

"Okay," he sighs, shuffling his feet, "I need a hug!"

"Of course, big hug, _squeeeeeeze_. Okay, go ahead."

Crisis averted, Fitz stands up and watches him go, smiling proudly.

"Alright, let's—Ruby?"

His daughter is suddenly nowhere to be found, and when he turns around he spots her immediately. She's in the kitchen again, gnawing on a carton of fake strawberries, trying to open them with her teeth.

"Ruby!" he hisses, looking around to make sure none of the teachers are watching, "The centers are closed! C'mere."

Before they're caught he takes the strawberries away from her, resulting in an _immediate_ meltdown.

"No! _No!_ Have it! Berry! Berry! _Mine!_ "

He sighs and scoops her up football-style, striding toward the exit, avoiding eye contact with every parent he passes.

* * *

 **Day 3**

"So how is drop-off going?"

"Well…"

The night before she's due to come back, they're still on the phone after she's video-chatted with the kids.

"Oh no, what happened?" Liv asks, watching him try not to grimace.

"Nothing, it's been fine."

"Fitz."

After a moment, he sighs dramatically. "Liv, I'm dying."

"What?" she laughs, "Why?"

"You failed to tell me there are thirty-five steps to this process before I can actually _leave_."

"What do you mean?"

"There's the water bottle, the coat, the nametag, choosing a center, the question—"

"—oh. I told you about all of that."

"You did _not_ ," he gasps, raising his eyebrows, "You told me we had to hang up his coat and that was it. And don't even get me started on the near-meltdown we had the other day."

"Oh, he didn't want you to leave?" she says, nodding knowingly.

"You might have mentioned that could happen."

"I guess it's so second-nature by now that I didn't really think about it. I'm sure it's been going better than you think."

"I don't think so. We forgot his water bottle _again_ this morning, Ruby dumped oatmeal all over herself on the way there—"

"—why did you let her have oatmeal in the car?"

He stares at her blankly. "You have _met_ your daughter, right?"

"Right," she agrees, drawing in a breath, "Point taken."

"Ruby's been having the time of her life though, I can tell you that much."

She laughs, eyes widening. "Has she?"

" _Oh_ yeah. First day she stole a fireman's hat, second day she tried to eat a carton of fake strawberries—"

Her brows furrow. "But the centers are closed—"

" _I know that!_ "

Olivia bursts into hysterical laughter, momentarily disappearing from the screen as she flops over onto the bed in her hotel room, giggling uncontrollably.

"I'm glad this is funny to you," he smirks, enjoying the sound of her laugh, "I didn't even get to today yet, this morning she wandered away and joined a first-grade class."

"She did _not!_ "

"Yup, strolled right in like she belonged there. I apologized to the teacher about twenty times, and then took a picture with the whole class. Liv—"

She's still laughing, wiping tears from her eyes. "I'm so sorry, baby. I really didn't think it would be an ordeal."

"One more day, one more day," he murmurs, repeating it like a mantra.

"You're so good with the kids, I can't believe this is stressing you out so much."

"I'm good with them in the _house_ ," he emphasizes, "Think about the number of times I've been out of the house with both of them at the same time."

Liv considers this for a moment. "Huh. I guess you're right. I guess we should work on that."

"No, we really shouldn't," he laughs, shaking his head.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Y'all know I love the littles! Ruby continues to torture Fitz, in her hilariously adorable way lol. My beta told me this gave her flashbacks, so I'm hoping it resonates with those of you who have kids. Loosely based on a real-life experience, as told to me by a friend. No post-ep this week, because there's no new ep, but hopefully next week! Hope you guys enjoyed this!**_


	84. The Firsts: XI

_**A/N: Throwback to baby Micah! I had a few of these little vignettes that were never going to be much longer than they are, so I put them together for this chapter.**_

* * *

 _ **The First Shots, 2 months old**_

"You're such a big boy! Eightieth percentile for weight, you're a chunk," Liv smiles, cradling Micah in her lap.

Fitz reaches over to gently squeeze his foot. "He's a good eater, that's his favorite pastime."

"I know, you love to eat, don't you? Mommy loves to feed you, so it works out, huh?" Liv murmurs, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

Micah eyes them curiously, dressed in just his onesie, kicking his bare legs.

"Okay bud, here comes the part you're not gonna like," Fitz sighs, sliding closer, "I just want you to know, it's okay to cry. We're going to be right here for you, you're going to be just fine."

"He might not cry," Liv says carefully, unconsciously holding her baby closer.

"Oh, Liv, he's going to cry. He's only two months old, he'll never see it coming. Try to prepare yourself."

"I've been dreading this," she moans, smoothing Micah's hair affectionately, "Can't we just put it off?"

Fitz gives her a sympathetic smile, rubbing her back soothingly.

"I know," she sighs, rocking a little, "It's for his own good. He'll be over it faster than I will."

"He'll be just fine," Fitz soothes, pressing a kiss to her temple, "He's your first, it's completely normal to be nervous about it. Just try to remember, it's not hurting him _that_ badly, it's just pain that he hasn't felt before. And he won't be expecting it."

"At this point I don't want him to feel any pain at all," she murmurs, cuddling Micah against her shoulder.

Megan, their nurse, pops back into the room carrying three syringes, alcohol wipes, and Band-Aids. "Okay, little man, you ready?"

"He's ready," Fitz smiles, "Mom is a little nervous."

"Totally understandable," Megan says kindly, "Do you want to hold him on your lap? Then, as soon as we're done you can love him up."

"Sure," Liv breathes, shifting Micah around so that he's sitting on her lap, "Here we go, pumpkin. Mommy's right here."

He reclines happily against her chest, eyeing Megan as she prepares her supplies.

"Alright, so I'm going to go pretty fast, two in this thigh and one in this one," Megan chirps, obviously a seasoned nurse as she quickly swipes the alcohol wipe over his chubby thighs, lining up the shots on the bed next to her.

When the first needle pierces his skin, Micah freezes for a few seconds. Then, his little face scrunches up, and he starts to cry.

"Shh, pumpkin, you're okay," Liv soothes, holding his tiny arms still, closing her eyes against his next high-pitched cry.

With each new stick Micah cries harder, taking big gasping breaths, breaking her heart one second at a time. But true to her word, Megan is fast, and as quickly as she'd started she's finished.

"Alright, little guy, I'm sorry, all done," she coos, massaging his thighs for a moment to help minimize later soreness, sticking the Band-Aids on.

Liv turns him around and cuddles him against her chest, patting his back. "C'mere, baby. You're okay, _shh, shh, shh_."

Completely confused and desperate for comfort, Micah immediately starts rooting, rubbing his face against her shoulder.

"Okay, pumpkin," she murmurs, automatically opening her nursing top, " _Shh, shh_."

"Good job, bud," Fitz says softly, watching his son start to breastfeed.

Micah whimpers for a few more seconds and then quiets, taking a big shuddery breath as he settles down, little hand coming up to grab onto Liv's shirt.

"All better," she murmurs, snuggling him in close, rocking back and forth, "There we go, all better."

* * *

 _ **The First Steps, 12 months old**_

"You're _happy_ today," Fitz laughs, pushing toys away from Micah's feet so he doesn't step on them.

He's pulled himself up on the ottoman and is standing, grinning at his dad, holding on as he toddles in circles around it.

"You're just so proud to be standing and cruising, huh? Here, you wanna dance?"

He reclines back on the floor and flips through his phone, pulling up " _Happy_ ". As soon as the music starts to play Micah bounces, holding on to the ottoman with one hand and flapping the other enthusiastically.

Fitz laughs again, sitting up and doing a little dance himself, encouraging him.

 _And then, all of a sudden, Micah's taking a step._

He lets go of the ottoman and takes a step forward, unassisted, making Fitz's breath catch.

" _Oh_ —c'mere, you're doing it," he breathes, eyes widening, holding his hands out.

Micah takes two more steps and starts to fall forward, giggling when Fitz catches him under his arms and swoops him into the air, laying down on his back.

"You walked!" he laughs, holding him up and wiggling him playfully, dodging a stream of drool, "You did it! You're getting so big!"

He brings the baby back down onto his chest, chuckling as he braces himself with both hands against his dad's face, rolling away.

"Oh…crap," Fitz breathes after a moment, watching Micah crawl back toward the ottoman, "Your mom wasn't here…she missed it. She's gonna be really upset."

As he's having this realization, Micah pulls himself up on the ottoman and starts to walk around it, looking like he wants to walk to Fitz again when he sits up.

" _Da-da-da-da-da_."

"Dude, we probably shouldn't practice this anymore, we need to wait for Mommy," Fitz whispers, as if they're doing something naughty, grinning in spite of himself.

Micah lets go with one hand, little tongue snaking out of his mouth in concentration.

Fitz sits up across from him, holding his hands out. "Okay, maybe one more time, c'mere bud. You've got it— _yeah!_ "

He hugs Micah close until he squirms away, playfully tackling him onto the carpet. The baby shrieks with laughter, both hands holding on to Fitz's head as he nuzzles his neck, growling and pretending to bite him.

"Here's what we have to do, okay? You're gonna have to pretend you _can't_ walk, and then we'll re-enact it for Mommy, okay? I want you to walk to Mommy."

" _Da-da-da-da_."

* * *

"Hello?"

They're still playing in the living room, and Fitz watches Micah get excited when he hears Liv's voice.

He starts speed crawling, and he's already halfway to her when she comes down the entryway and into the living room.

"Hi! Hey you," she laughs, letting him crawl over her feet, watching as he immediately pulls himself up on her pants, "You're getting too good at that."

She swings him up into her arms and kisses his cheeks.

"Did you have a good day? Did he have a good day, Daddy? Okay, sorry, sorry, here," she apologizes, putting her squirmy baby back on the floor so he can crawl away.

"We had a _great_ day, much better than yesterday. Sleeping through the night makes all the difference in the world."

"For the baby, _and_ for the parents," she emphasizes, setting her bags down, "I felt like a human at work, it was great. What did you guys do today?"

"Oh, the usual. Threw our lunch around, fought nap time, drooled, giggled—"

Liv laughs softly, watching Micah pull up on the ottoman. "Look at him go."

Her phone rings and she bends down to fish around in her bag, turning her back to them. As she picks up the call and stands, Micah takes two steps behind her back.

"Crap," Fitz whispers.

Glancing to make sure she's not watching, he gives Micah a tiny push. He falls down onto his butt, looking annoyed as he lets out a squawk.

"Aww, you fell," Fitz coos, shrugging at Liv when she turns around to see what the problem is, "He's fine."

She mouths ' _be right back_ ' to him, heading upstairs to change her clothes.

"Remember, bud? We talked about this," Fitz whispers, laying down on the floor as Micah starts to crawl on him, "You're gonna walk to Mommy, right?"

"Mama?"

"Yeah, walk to Mommy! When she comes back, okay?"

Micah looks at him for a moment, and then crawls as quickly as he can to the bottom of the stairs.

" _Mama!_ " he yells, completely aware that Liv has gone upstairs, "Mamaaaaa."

Fitz laughs, watching from the floor as this activity continues for the next few minutes.

" _Mamaaa!_ "

"Alright, Abby, I have to go. Can you hear him?" Olivia laughs from the top of the stairs, "I will. Okay…bye. Hey, you! Are you calling me? Is it time to play?"

"Mama!"

"Hi, baby! Can Mommy play with you? C'mon!"

She walks through to the living room, smiling as Micah follows along behind her.

"He's been about to walk all day," Fitz grins, propping himself up on the floor, "I tried a couple of times but he wouldn't come to me."

"Really?" she breathes, eyes lighting up, "He's that close? C'mere, pumpkin. Want to try to walk?"

"This has been his game, today," he gestures, watching as Micah pulls up on the ottoman and starts to walk around it.

Liv smiles, crawling over to kiss him. "Hi, mister. Are you behind on anything? Do you need to go work?"

"Not today," he smiles, kissing her again, "I'm good, right here. Liv—"

Micah's holding the ottoman with one arm, eyeing his parents.

"C'mere," Liv coos, holding her hands out, "You can do it— _oh my gosh!_ "

Just like he's been doing all afternoon, he takes a few steps and then falls forward into her arms, laughing.

"You walked! You walked to Mommy!" she laughs, smooching his cheek, "Big boy! I can't believe I was here for it, he's been so close for _days_. Buddy!"

"See? I knew he could do it, he was just waiting for his mama. You were waiting for Mommy, huh?" Fitz grins, taking in the joy on her face.

"Here pumpkin, try again. Walk to Daddy this time."

* * *

 _ **Every Time Feels Like the First Time, 18 months old**_

Fitz opens the front door, and he's immediately greeted with the sound of _wild_ laughter. He smiles, listening to his son's joy from upstairs, guessing that he's in the bathtub. Even the _thought_ of Liv playing with their son is enough to make his heart explode, still, and he closes his eyes when her laughter echoes through the house.

He tiptoes up the stairs, trying to eavesdrop on them so he doesn't interrupt whatever is so funny.

She's giving Micah a bath in the master bathroom tub, which for him is essentially a small pool. He's clearly having the time of his life, and Fitz can hear splashing from the hallway as he gets closer. He peeks around the corner in time to see Liv duck down behind the edge of the tall tub, curling herself into a ball. As soon as she hides, Micah crawls forward and wraps his hands over the edge, his smiling little face hovering there until—

" _Peek!_ "

She pops up and Micah absolutely _shrieks_ with laughter, scooting back in the tub and smacking his hands against the water. Olivia laughs too, because it's impossible not to when he's belly laughing with his mouth wide open.

"' _gain_ ," he giggles, splashing, " _'gain!_ "

Liv ducks down to hide again, and they continue the game for several more cycles, laughing the entire time.

Fitz can't imagine a time when this doesn't take his breath away, when watching her laugh with their beautiful boy feels like anything less than _magic_.

" _Daddyyyy!_ "

She turns around when Micah calls him, smiling. "Daddy's home! I think he was spying on us."

"You guys aren't having fun in here, are you?" he teases, coming in to sit on the closet toilet lid.

She quickly dumps a cupful of water over Micah's head to re-wet his hair, reaching for his conditioner.

"Oh!" he gasps, rubbing his face, "Daddy! Bubble!"

"I see!" Fitz grins, "Mommy put bubbles in your bath tonight, how exciting."

"How was dinner?" she asks, working conditioner into Micah's curls.

"It was really fun, I haven't seen Elliot in a long time. We picked up right where we left off."

"Duck!" Micah announces, thrusting a rubber duck into her face.

Liv pretends to be surprised. "I see him! That's great. What's he doing these days?"

"He's living in D.C. now. The company is still doing really well, but I think he has so many VPs at this point that they barely need him. He's divorced, never remarried, he's been traveling for the past two years. When I told him I was a stay-at-home dad his jaw hit the floor," Fitz chuckles, watching her coax Micah to stand so she can rinse him off.

"Alright, pumpkin, should we go read some books?"

"Out," Micah announces, raising his arms, "Mommy."

She lifts him from the tub and sets him on the bathmat, reaching for his towel. "Let's put your ears on. Oh, I know, we'll get you warm. Nice and warm."

His towel is tiger-striped, with a hood and ears, and Liv wraps him up tight, cuddling him into her arms. When she stands up, Fitz is staring at them warmly, smiling.

"Would _you_ rather be traveling, mister?" she teases, stepping into his chest when he stands.

"Not for _one minute_ ," he says immediately, punctuating his last two words by pressing his lips to hers, and then Micah's cheek.

* * *

 _ **A/N: ALLLLLL the fluff. I was feeling it for some reason haha. I hope you enjoyed this!**_


	85. Play

_**A/N:**_ _ **NSFW**_ _ **. PWP. This takes place in my ideal post-S7 world, wherein Olitz have figured their lives out and are together, splitting time between D.C. and Vermont.**_

* * *

"Can we play with this?"

When she comes out of the bathroom, he's holding her vibrator, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

She gasps in shocked amusement. "Put that back! What are you doing in my nightstand?"

"I was looking for eye drops," he grins, turning the purple silicone toy over in his hand, "Found _this_ instead."

"I keep eye drops in the bathroom, for future reference," she smiles, moving to take it from him.

He holds it above her head, laughing. "Are you _embarrassed_ , Livvie? Nothing to be ashamed of."

"I'm not embarrassed," she huffs, jumping playfully to try and grab it, "It's _mine_. Give it."

"You don't wanna share?" he teases, easily keeping the toy away from her, "I think we could have some fun with it."

Olivia stops trying to grab it and crosses her arms, smirking at him. "You do, do you?"

"Mmm hmm. I'm getting a lot of visuals of you using this, and now I'm thinking I need to see it for myself."

She watches as he thoughtfully turns the vibrator over in his hands, turns it on and then off again. When he sees the skeptical look on her face, he comes over and loops his arms around her, pulling her into a long, warm kiss.

"I use that when you're _not_ here," she breathes into his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck, "But you _are_ here. I don't need it."

"Well I know you don't _need_ it. But do you _want_ it?" he grins, slipping one hand underneath her Navy tee shirt to palm her ass, "I really didn't think I'd have to talk you into this. You're not exactly a prude."

She swats his ass, laughing softly into another kiss. "I don't know…isn't it weird for you?"

"Isn't what weird?" he asks, brows furrowed.

"That I'd come with…assistance," she shrugs, not quite sure how to articulate herself, "Like, if I came really hard or something, wouldn't you—"

"Okay, whoa," he interrupts, shaking his head, "Watching you have a fantastic orgasm will _never_ be a bad thing."

"I don't want you to feel like you're replaceable," she sighs, finally, "You're not. I feel like men don't like the fact that we use toys, sometimes. Like they're better than a penis or something. Vibrators aren't better they're just…different."

Fitz looks at her in complete confusion, still shaking his head. "I swear, I have no clue where you get your ideas sometimes. Listen—"

He tosses the toy onto her bed so that he can use both hands to pull her in close, kissing her lazily as he talks.

"—none of what you just said even crossed my mind. I just want to make you feel good. We've never used a toy before, and I thought we could play with it. I love to play with you, especially if we're naked. But if you—"

Her eyes are hazy midway through his little speech, and she bites his lip to stop him from talking.

"Let's play," she murmurs, carding her fingers through his hair, smiling against his lips.

"You sure?"

Now, after talking through it, she's imagining the vibrations while he licks her out, the sensation against her clit while he's fucking her, and—

" _Very_ sure," she breathes, drawing him toward her bed.

His eyes darken and he growls quietly into a wet kiss, sucking on her bottom lip. She crawls onto the bed, sitting up to pull her tee shirt off before she settles back against the pillows, waiting for him to join her. The way he climbs onto the bed in his boxers, stalking her, makes her giggle, and she watches him pick up the toy and place it within arms' reach. He settles over her, nuzzling into a kiss, rocking the line of his erection over her core. She pushes her hips up, and they grind together for a few minutes, tongues stroking slowly.

"You feel so good," she sighs, trailing her hands down his back, "Have you used a vibrator before?"

He gives her a look.

" _What?_ " she laughs, "This could go south really quickly if you dive in on the highest setting. It can be…a _lot_."

"I _haven't_ used one," he teases, nipping her lip, "But nothing's going to go south, because you're gonna show me what you like."

"Hmm…am I? You want to see how I took care of myself after those dirty phone calls. You were _mean_ , whispering to me late at night and hanging up," she murmurs, hips still writhing softly against his.

Fitz chuckles darkly, catching her soft moan when their tongues meet in a kiss.

"Here," he rasps, reaching for the toy and pressing it into her hand, "Show me."

It feels a little strange at first when he slides off of her to make space, propping himself up next to her. She's so used to his warmth, the pressure of his hips, but then she sees his eyes…he's watching her, waiting for her…

He reaches out to cup her breast, rubbing a light circle around her nipple with his thumb. "Go ahead, Livvie."

"Well," she breathes, clicking it on, "I usually use the lowest setting. Just to warm up. Over my underwear, like this."

He has no idea where to look as she starts to rub the vibrator over herself, wanting to take in everything. Instantly, her eyes close and she sighs in pleasure, drawing her knees back, relaxing into it.

"Fuck," he groans, burying his face in her neck, "I didn't even know that I _had_ this fantasy. You're already driving me insane."

She makes a sound that's half moan, half laugh, cupping the back of his neck with her free hand. "Kiss me."

Between kissing him and using the toy, her hips are rocking harder in what feels like seconds, and she sets it aside to take her underwear off.

"Now what?" he rasps, sucking kisses against her neck.

"Now _you're_ gonna use it," Liv murmurs, handing it to him.

"You sure?"

"Oh, yes," she sighs, smiling against his mouth, "Start slow. You'll figure it out, I have the utmost confidence in you."

Fitz chuckles and turns the vibrator on, looking at it as if he's contemplating it's power. "So, you just—"

She takes his hand and guides it between her thighs, gathering wetness with the head of the toy before she strokes up and over her clit, making sure everything's warm and slippery before she starts to rub in little circles.

He's not prepared.

He's not prepared for the way her chest instantly flushes, for the way her breaths come faster and her hips writhe, for the way the purple silicone looks when it's wet, sliding against her flesh.

"Hey, mister," she whispers, pulling him down into a kiss, "We still doing this?"

"Wha—"

He looks down again and realizes she's let go, but he's not continuing her movements, completely caught in the tunnel vision of watching her reaction.

Pressing the vibrator a little harder against her, he starts the circles again, watching the way it makes her whimper. "Oh, we're doing this. Tell me if I—"

"— _like that, that's perfect, don't stop_ —"

"Perfect on the first try, huh?" he grins, nuzzling her breast, drawing her nipple into his mouth.

"Shut up," she moans, threading her fingers into his hair.

She arches and spreads her legs even more, and _that's_ when he thinks he might die from arousal.

His confidence grows with each enthusiastic response, and he starts to experiment a little; sliding down to spread more slickness around, pressing the tip against her clit at different angles, with different amounts of pressure, watching her shake and moan and flex her hips.

He discovers that he particularly likes teasing her, using light pressure so that she rocks her hips harder and whimpers, chasing the sensation, trying to get closer. It makes her _needy_ in a way he hasn't seen before, overstimulated by all the vibration without enough pressure to come.

" _More_ ," she begs, after a little while, "The other button. C'mere."

He's been on his knees, _watching_ , but he lets her pull him in close again, slipping his tongue into her mouth.

"You ready to come?" he asks softly, resting his forehead against hers.

"Mmm. Need to—I nee—this is so hot… _ungh_ —"

He finally clicks the vibrator up to a higher setting, rubbing the top of her clit in quick circles. She whimpers and arches her back, unconsciously pulling his hair, bringing him into a sloppy kiss. Gradually, he uses more and more pressure, sliding down one millimeter at a time until the combination is just right and she starts to come.

Immediately, he sees what she meant by ' _a lot_ '.

She _keens_.

Her belly tightens, her thighs shake, and she grabs any part of him she can reach, like she's holding on through a tidal wave. She moans and pants against his mouth, face contorted in pleasure. He pulls her through pulse after pulse, until she yelps and pushes his hand away, knocking the toy onto the comforter.

While she's still shivering with aftershocks, he slides down and settles between her thighs.

"Baby," she whimpers, hissing when he groans and slides his tongue into her folds, " _Easy_."

He groans and softens his mouth, stroking slowly. "Need to taste you…that was— _fuck_ , Livvie."

Olivia sighs as he gently licks her out, combing her fingers through his hair over and over. After the intensity of the vibrator, his tongue feels soft and warm, and _heavenly_. He's not trying to make her come, he just wants to taste her, and that thought is enough to make her wet all over again.

"C'mere," she whispers after a few minutes, pulling on his shoulders.

He crawls up and collapses into her arms, falling into a long kiss. Sighing, she smiles against his mouth, flicking her tongue over his.

"Did you like that?" she murmurs, massaging up and down his back.

He nods, growling softly. "Fucking loved it. Wanna fuck you."

"Ready for you," she breathes, pushing at his boxers, "C'mon, baby."

He kicks his underwear off and can't resist fisting himself a few times, trying to release some of the throbbing ache. Liv grabs his hand, pulling him back down on top of her, sighing happily. She reaches to stroke him and he's deliciously hard, moaning against her breast.

"I love you," she sighs, wrapping her legs around his hips to bring him in close.

She's so wet as he starts to press inside her that he can't do anything but moan, reaching for her hands. He watches her face as he fills her, lacing their fingers together above her head.

"Nothing feels better than this," she whispers, breath hitching at his first thrust.

Fitz finally collects himself enough to speak, humming against her lips. "You feel so good…love you…"

They move together with slow, easy thrusts, sighing and kissing deeply. But after a moment she pushes him away, something she rarely does.

Confused, he lets her coax him onto his knees, watching as she arches her back and wraps her legs around his hips. He gets the idea and pulls her hips into his lap, slipping back inside her, holding onto her hips to support them. Normally they're as close as possible during sex, so this position isn't the norm, but as his eyes rake over her body he discovers that he _loves_ the view.

"Like this?"

"I want you to be able to _watch_ ," she murmurs, reaching across the bed for her vibrator.

" _Again?_ " he manages to ask, swallowing thickly.

"I'm only sensitive for a little while. Then I can use it again. Is that okay?"

"Fuck yes," he breathes, watching with dark eyes as she turns the toy on and runs it over her low belly.

He hauls her further into his lap and starts to thrust slowly, exploring the new angle. She moans softly, stretching one arm languidly above her head to hold onto her pillow, rubbing the vibrator over her nipples and then back down between her thighs.

As soon as she nestles it against her core, his mouth falls open.

" _Oh_ ," he gasps, halting the movement of his hips, "I can _feel_ that."

"Yeah?" she murmurs, still stroking lightly just above her clit, letting him absorb the sensation, "Do you like it?"

"I—I, um—"

His brain is short-circuiting, so he answers her with his body, fucking into her with a long groan.

She doesn't get to watch him lose control like this very often, and she tries to keep her eyes open to take him in. He's alternating between watching her, and tossing his head back in bliss, panting and tossing the sweaty curls out of his face. His body is _beautiful_ , tense and animalistic, the muscles of his abs flexing, and she can't get enough.

He holds on through her first orgasm, even while she whispers over and over that she wants him to come, digging her nails into his forearm.

As she comes down, trying to catch her breath, she feels him start to move again, slowly at first. She's not sure what prompts him to do it, but he picks up her right hand—the one resting on the comforter, still holding her vibrator—and moves it back between her thighs.

"Baby," she whimpers, tensing up at the sensation, "I don't know if I—"

But they're already _going_ there, and she trusts him, so she lets him take her. She lets him push her to the edge of pleasure, out to where it's almost pain, the most sensation she's ever felt. It's a place she _can't_ go on her own, so she gives him control, lets him hold the vibrations against her clit and push her farther, and _farther_ …

It's like an out of body experience, fucking each other like this; hard and deliberate, wanton but still focused. It's mindless in the best way possible, because their bodies just _know_ each other.

When she comes again she completely loses control. It's only later that she sees the scratches on his body, the places her nails nearly drew blood, that she realizes she must have been screaming. It feels like she's falling and _falling_ ; it's so _much_ , that when his familiar weight crushes her into the mattress, she nearly cries with relief.

She winds her limbs around him, panting against his temple, grounded enough to hear him grunting against her neck as he comes inside of her.

* * *

Fitz has no idea how long he's been lying in her arms, but eventually he realizes that she's shifting a little bit.

"You okay?"

"Stay, please," she sighs, stroking her fingers through his damp hair, "Just, pull out."

"Shit, I'm sorry sweetheart."

"No, s'okay," she soothes, sighing, "You're not hurting me. Just sensitive."

He gently eases their hips apart and feels her relax, pressing warm, slow kisses against her neck.

"Holy shit," he croaks, realizing how heavy his body feels.

Olivia laughs softly, humming into a long kiss.

When her eyes flutter open he's grinning lazily, tenderly stroking her temple with his thumb. "Thanks for doing that with me. Did you like it?"

"I loved it," she murmurs, tipping her chin for another kiss, cradling his face, "We should play more often."

"Yeah?" he smiles, kissing her softly.

" _Mmm_."

* * *

 _ **A/N: ::monkey covering eyes emoji:: Apparently I needed to get this out of my system lol. Hope you guys enjoyed!**_


	86. The Last Time

_**A/N: 7x16 post-ep.**_

* * *

"Forget the scotch."

Fitz turns around to see her stepping out of her heels, unbuttoning her blazer.

"You brought me a two-hundred-dollar bottle of scotch, and you want me to forget about it?"

She peels the jacket off, left in a black tank top that clings to her skin and disappears into her pants, made of some kind of shimmery material. He sometimes forgets how _tiny_ she is without her shoes, and their height difference makes him grin when she pulls him down to her, nuzzling her nose with his.

"Three hundred," she breathes against his mouth, correcting him.

He chuckles and kisses her again, hauling her up against his body.

"You told me you wanted a drink. Now I want a drink. We're having a drink," he murmurs, kissing her softly between sentences.

She's in full seduction mode, playing with the curls at the base of his neck. "You sure you don't want to wait a while?"

Luckily, after ten years, he can stay in control when he wants to.

Fitz pretends to think for a moment, rubbing slow circles over her low back. "Yup. I'm sure."

That makes her _laugh_ , and it's been so long since he's heard Olivia laugh that he almost gives in and forgets about the scotch.

Almost.

" _Fine_. Where are your glasses?" she asks, rolling her eyes playfully.

"There," he gestures, grinning as she walks over to the bar cart.

He grabs the bottle and toes his shoes off, following her over to the couch. She sets two glasses down on the coffee table and sits with him, moving in close to his side. Before he can pour any of the whiskey she lays her hand on his arm, and when he looks up at her she's suddenly emotional.

"I could have done something really terrible today," she whispers, looking at him with glassy eyes, "But, I didn't. I _couldn't_."

He puts the bottle down and cradles her face. "I know."

"That's not who I am, I _know_ that. I'm not that person," she says softly, leaning in to his touch.

"I know," he murmurs, pressing his lips against her forehead, "I'm proud of you, Livvie."

Her breath hitches with a sob, hands coming up to grasp his forearms. "You knew, even when I didn't."

"I'll always know you," he whispers, stroking her cheekbones with his thumbs, "That's what we do for each other."

 _I_ _ **know**_ _you, because you_ _ **let**_ _me know you._

Liv sniffles and shakes her head, unable to believe that they're really still here together, after all this time, that they haven't lost each other for good.

"I didn't come here to cry," she sniffs, laughing a little, wiping her eyes.

"It's okay. I like it," he says quietly, smiling gently.

She looks at him in confusion. "You like it when I cry?"

"No," he corrects, "I just meant…if you're being emotional I know you feel safe. I like when you feel safe with me. I always want that. I just want you to trust me."

"I never stopped trusting you," she whispers, reaching out to smooth his hair, "I stopped trusting _myself_. But—I think…I'm starting to feel better. About everything."

 _About myself._

 _About_ _ **us**_ _._

Everything she's not saying is reflected in her eyes, and the insinuation takes his breath away. The idea that this is real, that she's here, and working on being whole, is…everything he's dreamt about.

They stare at each other for a few moments, until it's too much for her and she looks away, smiling to herself.

"You going to open that, or what?"

Fitz grins and reaches for the Glenlivet, opening the bottle. After he's poured a bit into his glass, he turns to see that she's reclined next to him, smirking.

"What?"

"Nothing," she teases, still watching him, "I like to watch you taste. It's cute."

He looks bashful, peering down into his glass. "I think you're making fun of me."

"I'm not. Go ahead."

Indulging her, he gently swirls the liquid and then raises it to his nose, breathing in slowly. After he's inhaled each note, he takes a sip and holds it on his tongue, closing his eyes to focus on the flavor.

"Mmm," he hums, swallowing after an official ten seconds, "Haven't had this one in years. Here, your turn."

"I think I would rather…"

She trails off and draws him into a kiss, coaxing his lips open and stroking her tongue into his mouth.

Fitz groans.

His erection has been simmering since she'd first grabbed him in the hallway, but having her kiss him like _that_ , deliberately tasting the whiskey on his tongue…he's hard within seconds.

" _Mmm hmm_ ," she agrees, sucking on his bottom lip, "That _is_ good."

She's _too much_ , and he sets the glass down, pointing to the end of the couch. "You. Lie down over there."

"Who?" she frowns, glancing around, "Oh, me? _Now_ you want me to—"

Liv shrieks when he grabs her, letting him toss her back onto the couch and climb over her.

"Wait, wait, wait," she giggles, dodging his mouth as he rains kisses over her face.

" _What?_ " he growls, pinning her hands down, "If you're about to say something sassy—"

"I wanna kiss the scotch off of you again," she murmurs, relaxing into the cushions, "And then I want my _own_ sip."

"You have an awful lot of demands."

She stares up at him with warm eyes, daring him to deny her. They both know he won't, that he would give her anything, that he would part oceans for her if he could.

He reaches for the glass, but hands it to her instead. "I think it's only fair."

Grinning, she scoots up a little and does her own taste, copying the way he'd held the liquid on his tongue. As soon as she swallows he's ready to kiss her, settling his hips into the cradle of her pelvis, supporting himself on his elbows. Her mouth falls open and she lets him have control, moaning softly as he kisses her thoroughly, tasting every note of scotch on her tongue. He's big and warm on top of her, and she rubs her hands up and down his back, tracing each muscle.

 _God_ , his mouth.

"I think I'd prefer to only drink scotch this way, from now on," he breathes, dipping his lips to her neck.

Her whole body is buzzing with arousal, she just _wants_ him, and she doesn't want to wait anymore.

She sighs, scratching her fingers through his hair. "Let's go to bed."

"You don't want to do it on the couch? Or on that sideboard over there? Or—"

" _Shhh_ ," she whispers, because he's teasing her about the last time she'd been here and she doesn't want this to be like that, "No. I want you to take me to bed, and make love to me."

He lifts his gaze back to hers, and immediately sobers when he sees the way she's looking at him. Her eyes are so soft and sincere, so open, and she hasn't looked at him like that in a very long time.

She hasn't been herself in a long time.

"I'm not here because I'm _sad_ , or hurt, or scared," Liv continues, stroking her palm over the nape of his neck, "I'm here because—"

Unconsciously, she takes a deep breath.

"—because I love you. I want to be with you—"

"—okay," he murmurs, nuzzling his nose against her cheek, "Okay."

He kneels and pulls her up into a hug, needing to hold her because she's just changed everything. It feels so vulnerable, letting himself believe those words, but for some reason he doesn't feel scared this time. Her actions match her words, lately, and it feels _right_.

"I needed to hear that," he rasps, breathing her in.

She hugs him a little tighter, pressing a long kiss against his shoulder. "I know."

Turning her face into his neck, she presses a trail of warm kisses up to his ear, nuzzling her lips there.

Fitz cradles her face in his hands, kissing her softly. "I love you, too. So much."

" _Fitz_ ," she sighs, "Let's go to bed."

* * *

They make their way into the bedroom, falling against the pillows amidst soft moans and wet kisses.

As he tries to get under her tank top, he realizes that something's amiss. It's not moving when he pulls on it, he can't get it off—

"What the hell is going on here?" he mumbles, looking down to where he's struggling.

Something about the way he says it sends her into uncontrollable giggles. "It's a bodysuit, it won't come off that way."

"A what?" he groans, dropping his forehead against her chest, "You wore this on purpose."

"I didn't," she laughs, stroking through his hair, "Pants first, mister. You'll figure it out after that."

"I want you naked," he says petulantly, kissing his way down her torso, "You're making it difficult."

She's still laughing, lifting her hips to help him get her pants off. "This may come as a shock, but I don't pick my outfits for ease of removal. Stop whining."

He shimmies her pants down and tosses them off the bed, sitting up on his knees to look at her.

"Huh," he says tipping his head curiously, palms stroking over her thighs, "So…it's like a leotard."

"Essentially," she giggles, reaching for him, "You've never seen one of these before?"

"Uh-uh," he grins, shaking his head, nuzzling the tops of her breasts, "I think I like it though. You look like a dancer, we could break out into a _pas de deux_."

"I don't know about _that_."

"So…do you wear this in place of underwear, or…?"

"Only one way to find out," she teases, smiling at his adoration of her body.

"Oh, I _like_ this," he grins, slipping his fingers underneath the straps of the bodysuit, "I like clothes that I can peel off of you."

" _Now_ he likes it," she mutters, playfully rolling her eyes, "Just take it off, would you?"

Fitz laughs, burying his face in her neck and then leaning his forehead against hers. "I missed you."

" _Mmm_ ," she hums, kissing him slowly, "Me too."

He stretches the top of the bodysuit so that she can slip her arms out, and slowly peels it down to free her breasts. Groaning quietly, he gathers her up and starts to kiss circles over each one, working his way in to gently suck her nipples, using his teeth the way she likes. Her hands are everywhere, scratching over his scalp as she pants, trying to get in between them to finish unbuttoning his shirt.

"Take off your clothes," she whimpers, tugging at his collar, gasping when he rakes his teeth over the nipple in his mouth once more before he lets go.

As soon as he moves away she reaches for his belt, because she's had _plenty_ of foreplay and she just wants him moving inside of her, _now_.

When he stands up to push his pants and boxers off, she starts to push the bodysuit past her stomach.

"Don't you dare," he growls, climbing back onto the bed, "I wanna finish what I started."

Her hands freeze, and her lips spread into a smile, meeting his dark gaze. "Go ahead, mister."

He watches her stretch her arms above her head, arching languidly, and she's actually going to kill him. She _knows_ how sexy she is, she's confident in her ability to make him fall apart, and it makes him burn for her. He drinks in every inch of skin that's revealed as he peels the fabric from her body, savoring her, drinking in the signs of arousal spread all over her.

"C'mere. Kiss me," she whispers, drawing him close, "I missed kissing you."

His skin is _hot_ , instantly warming her when they press themselves together. Heat coils tightly in her low belly, and she realizes her whole body is trembling, her breaths are shorter and more frantic, her core is aching—

" _Fuck_ ," she whimpers, rocking her hips against his, moaning into his mouth.

He cups the inside of her thigh with his palm, opening her up as his hand slides over her skin, letting her control the angle of their kisses. Her breath catches when his middle finger slips inside of her easily, and she's so wet that it sends a jolt straight to his cock.

She can _feel_ how badly he needs her, even as he presses his palm against her clit and fingers her slowly, offering her an orgasm. All of his muscles are tight, clenched, and she rubs his back soothingly, reaching down for his wrist.

"Baby, later. I want you," she whispers, raising shaky hands to cradle his face, "Want you so much. Right now."

"Wanna hold you," he rasps, barely able to speak.

They roll onto their sides and he loops his arm underneath her, tangling their legs together so that her top leg is wrapped around his hip. She cradles the back of his neck and gives him space to rest his knee against the mattress for leverage, letting her head drop back as he _finally_ starts to press inside her. There's no space between them in this position, and she closes her eyes to focus on being held, on the stretch of his cock, the perfect fullness that each inch of him brings.

"That feels so good," she murmurs, moaning softly at the feeling of his mouth on her neck, " _Move_ , baby."

His groans are long and low as he starts to rock his hips, dragging his mouth over her throat, holding her close with his hand on her ass. It's _incredibly_ intimate, holding him like this, and emotion rises in her throat because she feels so _safe_ , so taken care of. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she brings their lips together, falling into a kiss that doesn't end.

They breath together, sharing air as their hips rock fluidly, tongues stroking, hands grasping for purchase on sweaty skin.

* * *

It's the kind of sex that they'll both remember, filed away with their first time, the fireplace in Vermont, the night he counted down with her, the evening she came to him on the Truman Balcony…

It's _the last time_.

It's the last time that they'll have a reunion, the last time that they'll be apart and have to find their way back to each other. When they look back it's bittersweet, because there's something profoundly intense about rediscovering each other with that kind of sex.

But years later, when they feel nostalgic, that's all it is, a sentimental affection for the past.

Because what comes after is _**so much better**_.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I'm sure everyone can guess how I felt about that 7x16 scene. ALL THE FEELS. I hope this was a nice continuation. For anyone needing a visual, they're in kama sutra #136 "thirst" (so appropriate). Let me know your thoughts!  
**_


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